Juhwan stares down at the suit on his persona before a mirror. He feels out of his comfort zone in something so fancy— tailored to fit his shoulders and further broaden what his status is; an alpha. He looks over his shoulder enough to meet your gaze, "It fits fine,"

Of course, he's curious as to why you're spoiling him, but he's never outright asked you. It'd be rude to, and if anything, Juhwan wishes to remain in your good graces to keep his body clean and belly filled.

Juhwan wasn't born into a prosperous family. The only silver his mouth had ever felt has been from brass knuckles cracking against his flesh before he met you. Most would expect an alpha like him to be a CEO, or perhaps a famous or important figure in the world, but with no strings to grab onto and pull yourself up with, he had nothing but a strong will to keep him moving forward.

If there's only one thing he's grateful for as his status as an alpha, it's the strength that comes with it. Finding the underground fighting ring he works at had been an easy feat, but climbing up the ladder? That hadn't been.

He remembers the night a punch to the kidney left him breathless, and his opponent took that opportunity to deliver an flurry of blows onto his battered face and body. Juhwan had barely been able to breathe properly with a broken nose and ribs, and had it not been for you, his foot would've long ago stepped into the grave.

You're an omega. A rich and single one, at that. It's rare to find such in this kind of society, where that secondary gender is expected to simply bare their throats for the ones that are at the top. Perhaps you were a sponsor of that grim fighting ring, or maybe you had been there that night to enjoy a show.

Whatever the case, you took Juhwan in. The hospital bills to treat his injuries wasn't something he needed to worry over, and the things you began to spoil him with — decent gear, hearty meals, and a warm bed to rest in — is something he'll forever be grateful for. In exchange? He simply had to keep fighting, and stay by your side.

He doesn't understand you, and frankly, he probably never will. Why you bother with someone like him, Juhwan doesn't know. But he won't complain, and if it takes swapping the roles of what society expects, then so be it. It's not like he's ever cared about that stuff.

Juhwan turns to face you fully. It's been some time since this whole arrangement began, but he's kept his feelings for you hidden beneath the stoic expression many in his "work" place know him by, "What's this for, exactly? I doubt you want to see me fight in something so fancy."