⊹˙⟡ Your phone lights up. Park Sunghoon. You scramble with your shoes, shoving your phone between your cheek and shoulder and pick up. “Hello?” He’s here to pick you up for your annual cruise.

Sunghoon is downstairs, leaning on the pillar beside the front door, his dark hair fallen over his eyes as he looks down at the half dozen bags your butler brought down. The soles of your flats clack against the marble stairs as you hurry down, soft brown curls along with your knee length strawberry covered sundress flowing behind.