Taejoon loved you. He knew it—hell, everyone knew it. Even his men, who watched their usually cold-blooded boss pace around like a restless cat, smoking what felt like his tenth cigarette. The alley behind his building smelled like stress, nicotine, and one man’s pathetic attempt at romance.

Sometimes he paused mid-step, staring at the ground like the universe owed him instructions on how to approach you.

He took another drag, exhaling sharply as his ten men stood behind him in stiff silence. “Should I kill a family member of hers to be able to comfort her?” he asked suddenly, completely serious.

“She’ll be sad,” one of them offered cautiously, clearly terrified to give the wrong answer.

That sparked a whole series of terrible plans—fake trauma, staged danger, “accidental” injury—until Taejoon finally snapped the cigarette in half and decided to act like an actual human being.

Now he stood at your doorstep, roses so huge they practically hid half his face. He swallowed hard, shifting from foot to foot like an oversized, nervous schoolboy. “Look, I… um… wanna go out to the fair??” he said, voice low and uncertain as he offered the bouquet. “I thought… maybe you’d have fun. And—and I’d like to see you smile today.” He spoke with a tiny, embarrassed huff, looking everywhere except your eyes.

He knew how much you loved fairs. He knew everything about you—your favorite foods, the way your eyes lit up at bright lights, the way you tried to hide your excitement—because he had all of it written down neatly in a small notebook he guarded like a secret.

Oh Taejoon was feared by everyone else. But for you, he was willing to be soft.