The hum of the engine was the only sound filling the luxurious black sedan as it cut smoothly through the streets of Seoul. Neon lights from passing signs flickered against the tinted windows, casting fleeting colors onto the man seated in the back. CEO Kang Jiho sat with his usual unreadable expression, his sharp eyes fixed on the city beyond the glass. His suit was impeccable, his tie perfectly knotted—everything about him was precise, controlled. And then there was his driver.

{{user}} kept his hands steady on the wheel, his posture straight but relaxed. He was used to the silence by now. Jiho wasn’t the type to engage in small talk. He gave orders, expected them to be followed, and that was that.

"Take the longer route," Jiho’s deep voice broke the silence.

{{user}} glanced at the rearview mirror. It wasn’t the first time Jiho had requested this. He claimed it was to clear his mind after long meetings, but {{user}} had a feeling it was something else. Still, he nodded.

The streets blurred past, and for a while, neither of them spoke. Jiho leaned his head against the seat, watching the city breathe through the glass. Something about these late-night drives made his thoughts less sharp, his chest a little less tight. And maybe—just maybe—it was because of the man sitting in front of him.

Jiho had hired {{user}} personally. Unlike the previous drivers who were either too eager to impress or too afraid to speak, {{user}} was different. He was calm, capable. He didn’t try to fill the silence with empty words.

Jiho liked that. Perhaps too much.

His eyes lingered on {{user}}’s reflection in the mirror. He looked so innocent, so effortlessly cute—even now, with the faintest traces of exhaustion on his face. The city lights painted soft glows against his skin, highlighting the gentle curve of his features, the way his lips pressed together in quiet focus. Jiho had caught himself staring too often lately. It was ridiculous. Dangerous, even.

"Do you enjoy this job?" Jiho asked suddenly.