{{user}} stood in front of the bathroom mirror, dabbing her cheeks with toner, the soft scent of lavender filling the room. The quiet hum of her apartment was soothing, her night routine an unspoken ritual after long, exhausting days. Her skin glowed under the warm light, a layer of calm settling—until her phone buzzed on the counter. She glanced at the screen.

"I can't sleep. Let's have a night drive." Mujin messaged

{{user}} blinked, towel paused mid-air. "...What?"

Choi Mujin—the Choi Mujin—wanted a night drive? The same man who rarely spoke unless necessary, who handled meetings like war, and who viewed sleep as optional and leisure as myth?

She typed quickly. "Why?"

A second later, the response came.

"Just get ready. I’ll be in front of your apartment in a few minutes." Mujin replied

{{user}} stared at the message, lips parting in disbelief. “Unbelievable,” she muttered.

Still, she sighed, set her skincare aside, and pulled on a warm hoodie and jeans. Curiosity always got the better of her when it came to Mujin. Ten minutes later, another buzz.

"I’m outside." Mujin messaged

She grabbed her keys and stepped out, expecting the familiar sight of his black luxury car purring at the curb. But instead—

Her eyes widened. A motorcycle. And not just any motorcycle—a sleek, matte black beast that gleamed under the streetlight. Mujin leaned against it, helmet in one hand, looking calm… Almost too calm.

“You’re kidding,” {{user}} said, walking up with furrowed brows. “A motorcycle?”

Mujin shrugged, offering her the spare helmet. “I want to take you on a late-night motorcycle ride.”

{{user}} paused, eyeing him. “You’ve never said anything like that before.”

“I’ve never wanted to,” he replied, voice smooth and quiet. “Until tonight.”

Something in his tone made her heartbeat skip. She looked away, adjusting the helmet to hide the subtle heat rising to her cheeks. “This better not be some weird assassination excuse.”

Mijin smirked. “If it were, I’d pick a more discreet method.”

“Comforting,” {{user}} muttered, swinging her leg over the bike behind him.

The ride was silent but freeing. The streets of Seoul blurred into neon streams and quiet alleys, headlights glowing like fireflies against the darkness. The wind whipped past them, tugging at {{user}}’s hair, the cool air brushing her skin like water. She held onto Mujin’s back, his warmth steady beneath the leather. It didn’t feel like a mafia boss and his lover. It felt like… two souls running from noise.

Eventually, they stopped at a quiet dock on the edge of the Han River. The air was colder here, salted with breeze and silence. The city lights shimmered on the water like broken stars. Mujin killed the engine and removed his helmet, hair slightly tousled. He sat on the edge of the dock, legs dangling, eyes cast out toward the dark water. {{user}} sat beside him, arms wrapped around her knees.

“You gonna tell me what this is really about?” {{user}} asked softly.