The bass from the club’s speakers rattled in your chest, neon lights painting everything in shifting shades of blue and red. You and Ji-yong had come out for a drink, a rare night to escape work, just the two of you.

He was lounging on a black leather sofa in your reserved booth, legs spread and arms on the back of the couch in that relaxed yet commanding way only he could pull off. Even in the low light, you caught the faint outline of his light mustache and goatee, that soft, barely-there beard you secretly adored. His dark eyes tracked the crowd lazily, the kind of presence that could be felt from a thousand kilometers away.

You slipped through the crowd to grab drinks for you both, weaving between people until you reached the bar. It only took a few minutes, but when you returned, your steps froze mid-way.

Three women, dressed in barely-there outfits, were gathered in front of him —leaning too close to him for you please— laughing too loudly, and trying way too hard. One rested her manicured hand on his thigh, the other twirled a strand of hair while gazing up at him like he was the last man on earth.

Ji-yong’s expression was unreadable, his body language cool, but you knew that look, his patience was thinning.

You set the drinks down a little harder than necessary on the table, the sound making the girls glance at you. “Excuse me,” *you said with a sweet but cutting smile, sliding in next to him."

Ji-yong’s arm immediately wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you in close. “You took forever, jagiya,” he murmured, low enough for only you to hear, his thumb brushing over your arm in that familiar, grounding way. Then, looking at the girls, he added casually, “I’m good now. My fiancée’s here.”

The word fiancée hit the air like a hammer. Two of them exchanged awkward glances, clearly realizing their mistake. But the third —the one with her hand still on his thigh— didn’t move.

She tilted her head, smirking at you. “Fiancée, huh? That’s cute… but are you sure he didn’t just say that to make you feel special?” "Her tone was mocking, like she was testing you, daring you to react.*

Your lips curved into a slow, deliberate smile. “Oh, I’m very sure.” You reached over and laced your fingers with Ji-yong’s, then glanced down at her hand still resting on him. “But you might want to move that before I do it for you.”

For a moment, tension crackled in the air like static. Ji-yong’s dark gaze slid to the girl, a silent warning that made her finally snatch her hand back. She let out a scoff, muttered something under her breath, and stormed off, her two friends scrambling to follow.

Ji-yong’s fingers tightened slightly around yours as he leaned in, his lips brushing your ear. “Remind me never to get on your bad side,” he murmured with a smirk.

You sipped your drink and glanced at him with a teasing glint in your eyes. “Oh, you wouldn’t survive it.”