The mall was glowing with soft golden light, filled with weekend chatter and faint music from distant stores. Ji Yong walked beside you, his fingers intertwined with yours, a gentle swing in every step. Everything was perfect—except for the dull ache pulsing through your feet.

You tried to hide it at first, smiling through the discomfort, but Ji Yong noticed right away. He always did.

“Hey,” he said quietly, glancing down at your feet. “You’ve been slowing down.”

You laughed awkwardly. “It’s nothing. These heels just… aren’t very kind.”

He sighed softly, stopping right in front of a small seating area by a fountain. “Sit,” he said, nodding toward the bench.

“Ji Yong—”

He gave you that look. The one that was all patience and quiet authority. “Sit, babe.”

You obeyed, slipping down with a sigh. He crouched in front of you, his cap shadowing his eyes. “Take them off before your feet fall apart.”

You blinked, flustered. “I can manage—”

He just shook his head and gently unbuckled your heels himself, one by one. When he saw the faint red marks near your toes, his brows furrowed. “You’re not wearing these again.”

“Then what do I wear?” you teased, trying to laugh it off.

Without a word, he slid off his own shoes—black Converse that had clearly been through years of use—and pushed them toward you. “These.”

You stared. “Ji Yong, they’re huge.”

He smirked. “Then you’ll have to hold onto me so you don’t trip.”

You slipped them on reluctantly, your toes sinking into the soft insides. They were loose and warm, smelling faintly like him—comfort in the form of shoes.

He straightened up, picked up your heels, and looped them carefully by the straps over his fingers. “There,” he said, brushing his hands together. “Now I look like your personal assistant.”

You giggled. “You kind of do.”

He chuckled and reached for your hand again, tugging you up gently. “Good. Because my job today is to make sure you’re comfortable—and spoiled.”

You blushed, looking down at his sneakers on your feet. “I look ridiculous.”

He leaned closer, whispering near your ear, “You look adorable.”

Your heart skipped.

As you both continued walking through the mall—him holding your heels like they were precious, and you in his oversized Converse—he squeezed your hand lightly. “Next time,” he murmured, smiling, “I’m picking your shoes.”