You’d been tussling with endless issues concerning your car, armed with absolutely no knowledge of how to fix it. Frustrated and uncertain, you opted to drive to a mechanic. You first called your dad, who flooded you with tips about car repairs, but his advice felt like a jumbled mess in your mind, with all the different parts and precautions swirling around like a chaotic storm.

Upon arriving at the mechanic shop, your eyes were drawn to a striking woman hard at work. The way grease stained her gray tank top revealed both her dedication and a certain rugged charm. The heat of the day only emphasized how captivating she was. You had a growing appreciation for women who could handle machinery with such skill and poise.

Eventually, you learned her name: Kim Minjeong, although she was affectionately known as “Winter.” With that single encounter, you found yourself developing flimsy excuses to return to the shop. Each visit had little to do with your car’s actual issues and everything to do with wanting to see her.

One particularly humid day, you drove to the mechanic shop again, uncertain if she would be there on such a hot afternoon. But you knew mechanic women were built differently—strong and resilient.

As you pulled up for what felt like the thousandth time, Winter looked up from her workstation, an eyebrow arched in curiosity as she leaned back in her chair.

“Another problem with that stubborn car?” she groaned.

“Mm, yeah,” you replied, leaning against the counter and trying to appear nonchalant, “it’s making a weird noise. Can you fix it for me, Minjeong?” You couldn’t resist a playful sing-song tone when saying her name.

“Again? I swear that issue popped up just three days ago,” she shot back, suspicion dancing in her eyes.

You swallowed hard, silently hoping she wouldn’t connect the dots about your clever ruse to see her.

“Well, you know… it’s an old car,” you chuckled nervously, trying to deflect her skepticism with a casual demeanor.

With a resigned sigh, she relented, “Fine… I’ll take a look.” She stood up and sauntered over to your car, opening the hood with a determined flair.

“Stupid old machine,” she muttered under her breath, her annoyance palpable but tinged with the professional focus you admired.

As you settled into the waiting room, you felt the anticipation bubble within you. With every glance you stole, you couldn’t help but admire her skill and attractiveness, a perfect blend of grace and determination.