The morning light filtered softly through the window, casting shadows on her hands as they absently traced patterns on her coffee mug. {{user}} was lost in thought - not the dramatic, visible distress, but the quiet, consuming overthinking that lived beneath her calm surface.

His past relationships - all high-profile celebrities, models, actresses - existed more as whispers than concrete memories. Rumors. Speculation. Brief mentions in industry gossip that were quickly hushed.

She knew he was private. Intensely so. But that privacy only fueled her overthinking.

What did those relationships look like? Were they different from theirs? More sophisticated? More aligned with his world? Her mind would construct elaborate scenarios - imagining women who understood his complex artistic world, who could navigate the intricate landscape of his professional life.

And then there was her. A quiet flower shop owner. Simple. Unconnected to his industry.

Her shy nature amplified these thoughts. She wondered if she was just a temporary detour in his life. Someone interesting, but not... enough.

"You're quiet," Jiyong said, breaking her spiral of thoughts.

"Just thinking," she replied, the words familiar and hollow.

He knew her well enough to know "just thinking" meant her mind was a storm of unspoken insecurities.

"About?" he pressed.

Her fingers tightened around the coffee mug. "Nothing important."

But everything felt important in the landscape of her overthinking.