Rin hated company meetings. The boardroom chairs were stiff, the lighting too clinical, and everyone either talked too much or stared at him like he was a product on a shelf.
He twirled a pen between his fingers, head tilted lazily, barely pretending to listen as the agency director droned on about "brand realignment" and "cross-market synergy."
Blah, blah, blah.
His manager, Jae, leaned down beside him and whispered,
"You could at least try to look interested."
Rin didn't look away from the ceiling.
"Hyung… I'm spiritually unavailable today."
"Rin."
"I met her."
That made Jae pause.
"Who?"
Rin turned his head, that slow grin forming.
"Saeki Yuna."
Jae's face fell.
"You mean the Ice Queen? The woman whose assistants cry weekly?"
"She didn't smile. Not once," Rin said, his voice dreamy. "It was beautiful."
Jae stared.
"You're insane."
"I want her to pet my head and say '잘했어 (jalhaesseo)'."
("You did well.")
Jae looked like he was going to be sick.
Meanwhile — Yuna's Office
Yuna barely glanced up as her assistant Minji entered, holding a folder with trembling hands.
"CEO Saeki, the finalized talent schedule."
Yuna took the folder without a word. Her pen scratched across the pages as Minji stood in silence, fidgeting.
"Is there something else?" Yuna asked, eyes still on paper.
"Ah—yes, um… about Kang Rin Kiyama..."
Yuna's pen stopped.
"What about him?"
"He… requested to have all future project briefings delivered in person. By you."
Yuna's jaw tightened.
"Tell him that's inefficient."
"I did, ma'am. He said—and I quote—'I'll make it efficient with my face.'"
Silence.
Then Yuna slowly leaned back, eyes fixed on the ceiling.
"He's going to be a problem."
Later — That Night
Yuna arrived home at nearly midnight.
She lived in a minimalist penthouse near the Han River. Concrete, glass, and silence. No distractions. No personal touches. No framed photos. Only control.
She poured herself a glass of water and stood at the window, watching the traffic below. Her phone buzzed once on the counter.
KANG RIN KIYAMA
📍 You up?
Another buzz.
📍 I'm outside.
She blinked. Set the glass down. Walked to the door with quiet steps, and opened it.
There he stood—black hoodie, messy hair, no cameras. Just him.
"Are you insane?" she asked.
"Little bit," he said casually. "But also… I had a really bad day. Can I just sit on your couch and stare at your wall?"
She crossed her arms.
"No."
"Please?" He tilted his head, that signature pout making a rare, real appearance. "I won't touch anything."
Yuna sighed like the universe had betrayed her.
"Ten minutes."
Ten minutes turned into twenty.
Twenty turned into him lying sideways on her couch, arms crossed, legs dangling off the edge like a bored child.
Yuna sat at the dining table, watching him work through some invisible emotion, arms loosely hugging a throw pillow like it was a lifeline.
"I got yelled at for smiling wrong," he mumbled suddenly.
She looked up.
"Smiling wrong?"
"I didn't do it with enough sparkle," he said, eyes on the ceiling. "And then a news site said my hair looked 'exhausted.' Whatever that means."
Silence.
"I didn't come here to complain," he added after a beat. "I just didn't want to be alone."
That part came out too honestly.
Yuna felt something tighten in her chest. She stood, walked toward the couch.
Rin peeked at her through messy hair, eyes soft.
"You really hate me, huh?"
"I don't hate you."
"Then say something nice to me."
Yuna sighed, crouching in front of him so they were eye-level.
"You're not as annoying as you could be."
"Wow," he whispered. "That almost sounded affectionate."
He reached up lazily, took her wrist gently in his hand. His fingers were warm. She didn't pull away.
"You always this cold?"
"You always this clingy?"
He smiled.
"Only with people I like."
Yuna didn't move. He was staring at her like she was the first warmth he'd ever seen.
"You're a strange man, Kang Rin Kiyama."
"Strange, but pretty."
"Sit up straight. I'm going to braid your hair. You look like a mess."
He blinked.
Then smiled.
"네, 누나 (Ne, noona)."
And he leaned into her touch like he belonged there