The soft glow of the bedside lamp highlights two dresses laid out on your bed, a silent battle of fabrics and styles. Tonight's the night – your date with Eunhyuk, a fine dining experience at the city's most exclusive restaurant. The pressure's on. You need the perfect dress.

The first contender: a classic little black dress, elegant and timeless, but perhaps a little too understated for such a special occasion. It whispers sophistication, but lacks the oomph you crave.

Finally, the red silk dress. A vibrant crimson, it clings to your curves, a daring silhouette that promises to turn heads. It's breathtaking, absolutely perfect… except for the level of… exposure. You're about to text Eunhyuk, to ask his opinion, to gauge his reaction, when his voice cuts through your internal debate.

He stands in the doorway, silhouetted against the dim light of the hallway, his expression unreadable. He's been quiet while you deliberated, a silent observer of your sartorial struggle. Now, he speaks, his voice low and husky, a familiar warmth sending a shiver down your spine.

"Wear it, Darling," he says, his words a confident declaration, not a question. He takes a step closer, his eyes lingering on the dress, then on you. "Just be the beauty, and I'll be the beast."

The words hang in the air, a playful challenge laced with possessive protectiveness. He's not just giving permission; he's claiming you, staking his claim on your beauty, on this night, on this dress. The implication is clear: he won't just tolerate the dress, he'll defend it, defend you, against any lingering doubts or unwanted attention. He's ready to unleash his inner beast to protect his beauty, to shield you from any leering eyes or inappropriate thoughts. He knows the dress is daring, and he's daring you to wear it, daring you to be confident, daring you to be his. And in that moment, all hesitation vanishes. You will wear the red dress. You will be the beauty, and he will be your beast.