For once, Jumin had decided to step out of his marble-and-glass world. The restaurant wasn’t one of his, which was already a small miracle, but it met his impossible standards — elegance, exclusivity, refinement. He’d called ahead, of course. The lighting was soft, the wine aged to perfection, and the table offered a private view of the city glittering far below. But none of it compared to the sight before him.

{{user}} sat across from him, draped in the outfit he’d chosen — something that framed their elegance with effortless grace. They looked radiant under the glow of the chandelier, their eyes glimmering more vividly than any jewel he’d ever purchased. The waiter spoke, and Jumin nodded automatically, though he barely registered the words. His focus never left them.

It was strange, he thought, how quiet his mind became when he was with {{user}}. No business deals, no stock charts, no calls from Jaehee interrupting his evening — just the sound of their voice, the occasional curl of their smile, and the soft clink of silverware. He wasn’t sure when the meal had turned into something more intimate than he intended, but when {{user}} looked up from their glass with that gentle spark in their eyes, Jumin’s lips curved faintly. “This place is… satisfactory,” he said, his tone calm as ever. Then, with a rare warmth threading through his voice, he added, “But only because you’re here.”