First part. The strength test
May 14, 2025 at 1:28 PM
The morning doesn’t start with coffee.
Definitely, it doesn`t start with a good mood either. When something goes wrong and ruins my usual daily routine right from the start—consider it a total disaster. It’s absolutely certain that everything will go to the hell from here on out. I don’t yet still don`t realize how bad it will be or whose fault it will be, but that’s for later…
I look with annoyance at the secretary, whose name I can’t remember, and watch as her hands are trembling and her gaze is pacing back and forth between me and the door. She probably wants to run away as fast as she can and avoid listening to my tirade.
"Take this away immediately!" I say in a cold tone , noticing how she flinches in fear. "Have you ever read the basic rules? Or you didn’t even bother?" I look down at the large cup of cappuccino and grimace wrinkle my nose in disgust, as the mere smell of coffee makes me sick. "In the morning, I prefer green tea without sugar and nothing else! Is that so hard for you to understand?"
She starts making excuses, muttering something about this day being her first and the chaos all around, but I raise my hand wearily, cutting off her flood of meaningless words.
“Not interested. If I can’t rely on you for something as simple as this, how can I trust you with anything more important?”
A tense silence fills the office. Her eyes well up, her lips start quivering—just a little more, and it’ll turn into full-blown hysterics, which is the last thing I need on a Monday morning! I take a deep breath, trying to to take under control my growing annoyance.
Maybe I’m being too harsh, but I have every right to do so. And I’m more than certain that Nayeon—I have time to read her name on the badge—was warned about her future boss’s excessive perfectionism. The position of vice president at Noir et Blanc, a company which creates unique interior items and luxury capsule clothes collections, me wasn`t received by me easily. That`s why, in my world, there’s no place for mistakes, not even the smallest ones.
“Let’s skip the tears, or your first day will definitely be your last one,” These kinds of women`s tricks don’t work on me; they only induce a feeling of a genuine indignation, and which is conveyed by my whole appearance.
If someone can’t handle their emotions in such a simple situation, what’s going to happen when things get really tough? I already miss my previous secretary, with whom I have worked side by side with for more than five years, but she decided to go on maternity leave, so what am I supposed to do? Adjusting to a new things was always hard for me. Whether it’s choosing a new car or even switching a phone, I get attached to the things around me and, unwilling to let go and get to deep into this in the end.The same goes for people.
And honestly, it’s a huge burden.
“I-I’m sorry, Mr. Kim. It won’t happen again. May I bring you a tea instead of coffee?” Nayeon bows her head with a guilty look and takes the tray away.
“It would be nice,” I say with restraint and show with my whole appearance that the conversation is over . This whole ordeal has already wasted ten minutes of my work time — such a luxury in my packed schedule.
I turn to the floor-to-ceiling window, the view, I have to admit, is breathtaking. The rent for our office, located in the city center, is fabulous , but it’s worth it. Seoul goes about its usual business: the hustle and bustle of the streets, the endless stream of cars, pedestrians with their morning coffee. Everyone seems so peaceful, as if their day has started perfectly. Meanwhile, I’m still here dealing with a secretary who apparently thought my morning preferences were some kind of a joke.
I won’t deny it, lately, I’ve become overly demanding. But how should I behave when the competitors are at every step of the way? Few people know how much effort and sleepless nights it took for me to earn this position.
Suddenly, I start to remember my early days at the company, when I was just a intern. Back then, no one went easy on me. I had to be the best at everything: from analyzing trends that changed at breakneck speed to preparing countless presentations. Otherwise, I would’ve just faded among the dozens of other ambitious newcomers.
If you want a to take your place under the sun, you have to claw your way to it.
But now… Looking at these young employees, I can’t help but wonder: where’s the drive to be the best? Everything seems so easy for them. A comfortable office, flexible schedule, the mentors willing to explain the same thing ten times all over again. All you need is to leave them unsupervised and they start to mess up in the simplest tasks. I don’t have the patience for that, which is why our team isn’t as large as originally planned. But I trust every one of them and I absolutely despise the newbies.
Thinking about this, I have no idea what fate has in store for me. After a brief knock on the door, Nayeon returns with a tray—and-what a miracle!—my freshly brewed green tea.
“Mr. Jeon is here. He said he’ll stop by in five minutes,” the secretary says in a hurry.
What brings him here at this hour?
“Fine,” I give a short nod and finally turn on my computer, muttering under my breath about the wasted time.
The door opens slightly, and Sivan's face appears in the doorway. To begin with, this is the very founder of the Noir et Blanc corporation and, for some time now, my good friend. Thanks to him, I managed to climb the career ladder quite quickly, although I shouldn’t downplay my own merits: I am truly a professional in my field. For a long time, we kept our distance, but somehow, we got closer, despite the age difference—a whole fifteen years.
"Good morning, am I interrupting something?" Sivan asks with a smile as he is entering the office.
"Hi, you don`t even have to ask," I say with a warmth, standing up to reach across the table to him and shake his hand. "Something wrong?"
The main office is located at a different address, so a personal meeting on a Monday morning has me a bit on edge. If Sivan didn’t call beforehand, it means the matter is urgent and requires a detailed discussion.
He sits down in the chair in front of me and squints meaningfully, forcing me to hold my breath and adjust my slipping glasses on the bridge of my nose in confusion. I know this sly, piercing look all too well, but for now, I can’t unravel his intentions.
"Anewproject?Or, on the contrary, issues with the supplies from Brussel?" I wonder hastily, bringing up the first thing on the agenda.
"No, no, it’s more of a personal matter…" Sivan hesitates, which is completely unlike him, and it makes me frown even more.
"Just get to the point already!" I say impatiently, slightly leaning back in my chair.
"Do you remember I told you once about my younger son, right?" Sivan is being suspiciously cautious.
"The one studying in England?" I clarify, just in case, since Jeon has two sons, but the older one has already graduated from university and is helping his father with the business.
"Correct."
I remember how Sivan complained, saying there was no way to control him. A rebel to the core, he always goes against the system. We’ve never met, but I’ve heard a lot about him, not just from my friend but also from acquaintances.
"Well, here’s the thing…" Jeon stammers and looks away. He’s clearly uncomfortable saying this and, most likely, he is ashamed of his son, but continues: "He was almost expelled from the university. I had to fork out a lot to cover his numerous absences and debts, but that’s not even the main issue."
"Then what is it?" I raise an eyebrow, intrigued.
"Jungkook declared that he doesn’t want to continue his studies. He’s bored with it, can you believe it? I’ve put so much money in him, and this little shit just changed his mind!" He shares a bitter laugh and rubs his eyes wearily. "My wife and I convinced him to take a leave of absence so he could… um… reconsider his priorities," Sivan continues a little ambiguous, nervously swallowing. "He needs to do something while he’s in Seoul, and I thought an internship with you might help to channel his energy in the right direction."
Here we go…
I freeze in place, stunned by what I’ve just heard. My mouth probably hangs open in shock. With all due respect to my boss, I’m completely unprepared to deal with his son, especially so problematic one. But Sivan is looking at me in such a way that I nervously swallow. This is a complete mess, but I can’t refuse. Not just because he’s my boss, but because he’s came to me asking for help and really hopes that I won’t turn him down. Back in the days, Jeon often helped me out, and now, it seems, it’s my turn to repay the favor.
"Why me?" I ask quietly, frantically processing the information.
"I trust you. Plus, you’re so meticulous that you won’t coddle him like my any other employee would, just because he’s the son of Jeon Sivan."
Thanks, I guess, but what am I supposed to do with this now?
"You know, I’m a bit at a loss here," I start hesitantly. "On top of that, I will be a terrible mentor. Do you know how hard I ride everyone, right?" I look at him, hoping for a sudden epiphany, but there’s none.
Sivan gives a wide smile and acts as if he’s already gotten my approval. The deal is done! Everything’s great, except I’m completely baffled and don’t know how to proceed.
"I’ll send you a team of specialists, the best ones, for the Brussels project. I’ll lighten your load as much as possible! Ask for anything, just don’t refuse, Taehyung! I’m so tired of his antics, but also I’m terrified of losing Jungkook as a son. It’s such a fine line…"
"And what role do you see him in? I need a general understanding of his skills," I start uncertainly, almost physically feeling the swamp with its bubbling sounds pulling me under.
"Let him decide. My only condition was that he’d work and learn something new this year. Believe me, Jungkook is not a fool, but he does need a certain approach."
"Sivan, I’m not a psychologist, especially not a teacher. One thing to train interns and, if they mess up, fire them without a second thought, but your son is a whole different story. Won’t he take advantage of his position?"
"Our relationship is quite tense right now. I’m very angry at him, so I don’t think that Jungkook will cause too much trouble. But please, keep me updated on how he’s doing, and we’ll adjust as we go."
"Adjust as we go"? Is he serious?
"Alright," I exhale resignedly, even though everything inside me protests against this decision. "Let him come tomorrow. But I’m not making any promises."
Sivan immediately breaks into a grateful smile and starts showering me with words of appreciation. And I already regret about it. My gut tells me this is going to backfire on me, because my intuition has never let me down before.
The next day, I arrive at the office a bit earlier than usual to get myself ready for the meeting with this guy. I am out of sorts, but who cares? I make myself some tea and head to my office while no one’s around. I review the sketches of the latest collection sent by the designers from our branch and find myself dissatisfied with the results. Everything’s such a cliché and, in the long run, too expensive. I jot down notes in my notebook and don’t notice someone else’s presence. Apparently, I didn’t close the door completely: Jungkook is already standing in the doorway but still designates his appearance with a light knock.
"Good morning, Mr. Kim."
I look up and can’t hide my surprise. Though, to be honest, I’m totally shocked. A tall guy standing in front of me has a purple little messy styled hair. His temples are cropped short, there are tattoos on his neck, and piercings glint in his lower lip, eyebrow and ears. Chains, bracelets, strange clothes and an overall bold look leave me in a state of stupor. His dark eyes gaze at me saucily, almost challenging me to something, and his lips curl into a slight smirk. It’s as if he is asking with his face, "Well, what do you think?"
"Good morning," I give a discreet nod and gesture to the chair which is located in front of me, but this brat doesn’t even think about sitting down.
With his hands in the pockets of his shabby slacks, he enters the office with a chuffed smirk and looks around, noticing the numerous diplomas and awards on the wall that I didn’t really want to display but was forced to.
"You really are impressive," he drawls, carefully reading each one of them. "Impressive!"
His voice is low but with a slight raspiness. There’s also a faint lisp, but it’s so subtle that I can’t tell if it’s a speech imperfection or something like "a chewing gum in his mouth."
I remain sitting still in the chair, watching this specimen with caution, completely unsure how to react. Jungkook`s moves are relaxed and confident, as if he’s doing me a favor just showing up here.
It’s pissing me off.
Being angry, I start biting the inside of my cheek, but there’s a risk I’ll bite it through before this idiot will sit down.
"I assume you know who I am, but I should still introduce myself, right?"
"Sit down!" I command loudly, starting to get up really angry.
What kind of clown show is he putting on here?
"I’m Jeon Jungkook," the guy says with a slight smirk, extending his hand. "Nice to meet you."
He even has tattoos on his fingers! And a bunch of rings, bracelets, and black nail polish. A long, sharp nail on his pinky attracts the attention . What’s that for? Picking his nose? Shaking his hand feels almost intimidating… It’s like if I touch him, I’ll become just like him. I stare at his hand for too long, but etiquette doesn`t allow me to ignore the gesture.
My hand is very different from his which is not a surprise. I often hear that my fingers are too aristocratic. I also have a manicure, but without a nail polish. Perfectly shaped nails, a few golden rings, and a rather delicate skin that requires a special care. I even have to wear gloves when washing the dishes.
For some reason, he doesn’t let my hand go.
I raise an eyebrow in surprise and then try to pull my hand back, but it takes a moment. It’s so awkward that I’m at a loss again, unsure how to react. I frown and adjust my glasses—something I always do when I’m nervous. I clear my throat slightly and give him another puzzled look. Up close, Jungkook’s eyes are almost the same color as his hair, maybe a bit darker. And his pupils… Oh my God! They’re vertical, like a snake or a dragon has. Of course, I’m not an idiot and understand these are just contacts, but it’s striking. And, definitely, it suits him. Overall, his look is quite memorable, but I can’t shake the feeling that he’s deliberately trying to make a lasting impression on me.
Well… I have to admit, he succeeded.
Ignoring his intense gaze, I pick up my phone and text Sivan:
You:
Does your son know there’s a dress code in the company? I’m a bit shocked here…
The reply comes quickly:
Sivan:
My bad, I forgot to warn him. Please bear with it for a while, I’m begging you!
Bear with it? I’m not thrilled about seeing this circus every day! And how will the other employees react to this freak? I clench my teeth tightly, put my phone aside, and let out a heavy sigh.
"So, what exactly do you want to do here?" I struggle to look away from the tattoo on his neck and clasp my hands together, trying to maintain an outward serenity.
"Design," he replies without any hesitation, leaning back on his chair with an air of overconfidence, as if his significance is unquestionable.
I can’t stand these spoiled rich kids who get everything handed to them without any effort. They don’t know what it means to struggle, to carve out a path and earn their place in the world. They have no idea what it’s like to start from scratch and prove themselves. My annoyance grows with every second. Seriously? Does he even understand that this isn’t just about wearing ripped pants and showing up at parties?
"Do you have even the slightest idea what design is?" I ask with a grain of salt, raising an eyebrow slightly.
"Do I look like I have a lack of intelligence?" Jungkook snorts, genuinely surprised by my question.
I glare at him. His cocky confidence infuriates me. He’s not just invading my carefully curated world but acting as if he already belongs to it, and it’s throwing me off balance. I should notice that nature hasn’t been stingy with his look: his features are indeed harmonious. He’s got that edgy but not overly pretty-boy look. Too bad the same can’t be said for his manners.
He could at least show a little respect!
"To work in a design, you need years of training," I say, emphasizing each word while watching his reaction closely. "As far as I know, you chose an economics major, which is quite distant from the creative profession you’re talking about now."
Jungkook nods and smirks slyly, as if he anticipated my response.
"There are exceptions to every rule," he says lazily, crossing his arms over his chest. "As you said, a design is primarily about creativity, and that’s shows up not at the university but in the soul… or even in the space." Jungkook tilts his head back, pretending to search for answers on the ceiling. "But not everyone is capable of creating."
"Judging by your appearance, you’ve clearly arrived from some parallel dimension," I think to myself, but of course, I don’t say it out loud.
"So, you’re saying you’re one of the chosen ones?" I squint, letting my gaze glance wander thoughtfully over his face.
Exactly at this moment I notice a tiny heart-shaped tattoo on his right cheekbone. It stands out from his overall rebellious image, adding an inexplicable touch of softness. I stare so intently that Jungkook unconsciously bites his lip piercing—a habit he clearly doesn’t realize he has. Taking himself under control, he quickly straightens up in his chair and leans forward slightly.
"Choosing to major in financial analysis wasn’t my decision but the result of a long arguments with my father," he admits, cracking his knuckles. "I understand your skepticism, but let me prove myself. Then, perhaps, your opinion will become more objective." He tilts his head slightly and smiles again, but this time there’s less defiance and more sincerity.
A charismatic and charming little brat.
He knows I won’t kick him out. He’s confident he’ll get his chance, and it’s baffling. I remember myself at his age: in the very beginning my internship at Noir et Blanc, I never allowed myself even a hint of audacity and was focused solely on one thing—how to stand out among dozens of equally ambitious newcomers.
"You think you can impress me?" I tap my pen slowly on the edge of the desk, letting the pause linger.
"Oh, there is no doubt about it! I’m a real master at that!" His dragon-like eyes spark with excitement.
Well… I’m curious how long his enthusiasm will last when he faces real challenges."Alright," I exhale with feigned reluctance. "I’ll give you a week to settle into the design department. Then we’ll have a creative competition. Let’s see how strong your connection to the space really is."
Jungkook smirks, accepting the challenge with the same carefree confidence. And I mentally rub my hands together, certain I’ll quickly bring this spoiled brat back down to earth.
Over the past week, we didn’t cross each others paths too much—thank God. I shoved that prodigy with tatoos and piercing into the design department and breathed a sigh of relief, hoping they’d leave me alone. But Sivan kept texting and asking if everything was okay. So, I had to drop by the next floor and watch how Jungkook was adapting to the team.
The only problem was his appearance. Nonetheless, I demanded that Jungkook changed his ripped jeans and oversized hoodie for something more appropriate. The piercings, however, were something I and the entire department reluctantly had to accept.
When Jungkook showed up the next day in a classic black shirt and trousers, I nearly choked on my tea and asked him to close the door.
“The secretary wasn’t around, so…” His dragon-like eyes gleamed with joy. “What do you think?” He spun around, and I gave an indecent look at his butt, which now looked enticing as hell.
“Didn’t they teach you to knock?” I muttered in a disapprove, though I couldn’t help but admit that the classic look suited him.
Everything looks good on him…
“I knocked, but I guess not that loud” he said. “You didn’t answer.”
“It’ll do,” I replied, deliberately indifferent.
I noticed a faint shadow of disappointment flicker across his face, his lips slightly downturned. I felt a pang of guilt for my own prudishness—he clearly wanted to impress me. I set down my half-finished tea, stood up, and walked over to Jungkook, giving him a look once more from head to toe. We were almost the same height and build, but our energies were completely opposite. While I was reserved and strict, Jungkook was my antithesis: free-spirited, bold, and constantly testing boundaries.
*My* boundaries, mind you!
This had been happening all week whenever we crossed our paths. He’d either say something shocking, leaving me wide-eyed, or stare so intently that it made me feel uncomfortable.
“You should take the lenses off too,” I said coldly in a cold tone, still unwilling to offer even the smallest compliment.
“I have bad eyesight, and this is the only brand I’m not allergic to,” he explained, biting his piercing again.
“Then just get the regular lenses without all that dragon nonsense,” I grumbled, about to sit back down when he unexpectedly grabbed my wrist.
“‘Dragon nonsense’?” he repeated, genuinely surprised. “Why not snake or lizard-like?”
“Does it matter?” I felt myself getting annoyed by his absurd questions.
“Do you… not like it?” Jungkook frowned, pursing his lips. “Or is it just a business dress code requirement?” His voice suddenly turned serious, and I froze.
What the difference woud make my opinion? Or was my point of view actually important to him? Once again, I caught myself thinking that this guy’s behavior was suspicious, and his interest in me was clearly excessive.
I looked at his face, noting the slight anxiety in his eyes, and before I could bite my tongue, the words slipped out:
“Considering your overall style, the lenses fit perfectly, especially with your hair color.”
Jungkook was silent for just a second before slowly breaking into a satisfied grin.
“Well, well, Mr. Kim, you have just complimented me!” he drawled, completely ignoring the fact that he’d ished for it without a shame. His grip on my wrist loosened slightly but he didn’t let go. “I can’t believe it!”
I felt warmth rush to my ears, and everything inside turned upside down. What a brat! Just look at him!
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” I snapped, pulling my hand away and deliberately a few steps back.
Honestly, I wanted to run away because it had been a long time since I’d been so scared of my own emotions and that strange, tickling feeling in the pit of my stomach that was so hard to control.
“Of course, of course,” Jungkook nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets and swaying slightly. “Then you don’t mind if I keep them? Since they suit me so well…” He raised an eyebrow, once again killing me with his persistence.
I rolled my eyes in resignation, longing to be alone, so I just waved him off.
“Do whatever you want, Jungkook,” I sighed. “But don’t you dare barge in here without a knock again.”
“Oh, don’t worry—next time I’ll knock so loud you’ll definitely hear me,” he replied slyly, spinning on the heels of his new leather shoes and heading for the door.
And once again, I found myself staring at his butt.
Damn him!
On the day of the competition, I announced the rules: the design team had two hours to transform a simple black hoodie into a something unique. Minimal cost and maximum creativity. The prize was a fine prize from me. The participants dove into their work immediately: some used a paint, a few added a distressed effect, and others experimented with appliqué.
It had been a while since we’d done something like this, so everyone was completely focused. The office hall buzzed with emulative spirit : the colleagues joked, laughed, and chatted over the partitions that prevented anyone from peeking at their neighbor’s work.
It was hard to keep track of everyone, but out of the corner of my eye, I was, of course, watching over Jungkook, who was the reason this whole thing had started in the first place. Unlike the others, he wasn’t improvising—he seemed confident in his approach. While everyone else was focused on decoration, Jungkook carefully removed the bottom part of the hoodie, cut out a section near the chest, and… began weaving black yarn through it, creating something resembling a net.
I squinted my eyes in surprise.
Was he… knitting? Seriously?
This was hard to wrap my head around. Meanwhile, Jungkook noticed my shock and grinned, biting that damn piercing again. He clearly enjoyed the effect he had on me, practically glowing, which made me let out an unexpected quiet laugh.
I felt everyone in the hall was watching me, so I coughed into my fist, furrowed my brows sternly, and tried to pull myself together.
When the time was up, the designers began placing their creations on mannequins. Everything looked impressive, some were even surprising, but overall, it was somewhat quite predictable: contrasting paints, chains, rhinestones, patches, and cutouts. Everyone waited for the last participant, who had suddenly disappeared.
I was about to ask where Jungkook was when the door burst open and he walked into the hall wearing his modified hoodie . The air grew thick with a sudden silence. No one said a word because, damn it, this wasn’t just a hoodie—it was a challenge, addressed to me. I think everyone in the hall understood that.
The black fabric fit him perfectly, as if tailored to his measurements. The cropped hem revealed his toned abs. The netting on the chest accentuated his collarbones and part of his tattoo, and most important it allowed to see a glimpse of something that momentarily took my breath away.
It was another damn piercing.
On his nipples…
How many piercings did this guy have?
I couldn’t help but stare, carefully exploring every detail: the silver jewelry glinting with every movement, his moderately toned chest. Jungkook, casually clasping his hands behind his back, walked to the center of the hall and and gave me an arrogant smirk, as if he’d known exactly how to throw me off the balance.
“Couldn’t find your mannequin?” I snorted with a skepticism.
“I prefer a living, hot bodies,” Jungkook replied with a wide smile, clearly reveling in the effect he’d created.
He shrugged slightly, and in his eyes… Oh my God! There were such a raging flames that I audibly swallowed in the ringing silence.
I’d wanted to bring him down to earth, but it felt like I was the one who’d just been slammed into the concrete floor.
The judges’ decision was almost unanimous: first place went to Jungkook. His work truly stood out from the rest, and despite the initial shock, even a skeptic like me couldn’t deny his talent.
By the end of the day, I was still trying to process what had happened. For some reason, I’d been sure he’d mess up here and prove to be not just ordinary but completely inept. Because, you know, a rich kid! And what the hell was with the knitting needles? He’d practically skewered me with them! I sat at my table, replaying everything in my head, when the office door opened, and the reason of my turmoil appeared in the doorway.
“Without a knock again?” I asked, starting to get used to it.
“Can I refuse the prize?” he blurted out as he walked in.
“Why? You earned it fair and square,” I said, blinking tiredly and leaning back in my chair.
“You had misunderstood,” Jungkook said, approaching the desk, his dragon-like eyes flashing with that same bold fire that I’d noticed earlier. “I need… a different reward.”
I looked at him with an anticipation, mentally preparing for another trick.
“What kind?” I asked with a heavy sigh.
“A date with you!”
In something the little over thirty years, I’d seen all kinds of audacious people, but this… I raised my eyebrows and then burst into laughter. Genuine, heartfelt laughter.
“I expected this reaction,” he said immediately, nodding to himself as if mentally noting something.
Once I’d finished laughing, I tried to put on a serious face and asked, “What do you mean, a ‘date’? Doesn’t it bother you that we’re both a men?!”
He clicked his tongue in a strange way and leaned towards me. I felt his piercing gaze, and tension which had hung in the air. At first, I’d thought it was some kind of an absurd joke, but now I realized it was much more serious.
“I know you don’t display your orientation, but…” Jungkook nervously chewed his lower lip, searching for the right words. “I really like you! As a man, yes.”
Had I mentioned that my eyes were about to pop out of my head because of a shock? My eyebrows slowly crept up, and my glasses slid down my nose. I stared at Jungkook, struggling to formulate anything coherent. The fact that I was a gay was not a secret for many people. But I wasn’t the type to flaunt it or act provocatively. And I’d always believed that my personal life shouldn’t intersect with work. That’s why I’d immediately suppressed any propositions from colleagues, even if they were an innocent hints or flirting. The women in the office had initially been relentless, but when I’d let it slip that I was in a relationship with a man, it had worked without a hitch. Thank God! And now here was this dragon-like miracle sitting in front of me, batting his eyelashes and practically holding his breath, waiting for my answer.
“I’m eleven years older than you!”
“Not the best way to start. Definitely, not the best!” a warning bell rang in my head.
“You didn’t say ‘no,’” Jungkook nodded to himself, satisfied, and gave me a mysterious look.
“That doesn’t mean anything!” I flared up in indignation. “No dates with a colleagues!” I tried to shut him down with another weighty argument.
“What if I quit my internship?” Each sentence was a way more absurd than the previous one.
I growled in frustration, took off my glasses, and rubbed my eyes wearily. It had only been a little over a week, and I was already at my wit’s end with this guy. What the hell did he mean by a “date”?
“I have no idea where you got the information about my orientation, but…”
“Definitely not from my father!” he interrupted me immediately.
“I don’t care whereabout the source! Just remember one thing: don`t you dare to propose something like this to your boss, no matter how much you want to. I’ll let it slide out due to respect for Sivan, but others won’t be so lenient,” I explained patiently, as if talking to a naughty student.
“I don’t need others,” Jungkook said in a bulky tone, frowning like a pouting child. “And I’m not planning to propose this to anyone else.”
I looked at him for a few seconds, unable to believe we were even having this conversation. I should’ve told him to get lost, but for some reason, the words wouldn’t come. Instead, I tried not to hurt his feelings with my refusal and carefully chose my words.
“Even if you quit your internship, you’re still my friend’s son firstly. I get it, you’re used to getting whatever you want, but I’m definitely not on that list, secondly. Clear?” I felt a headache coming on from the tension.
“Do you like me at least a little bit?” He looked like a beaten puppy without the erstwhile ardor.
Why was he so damn persistent?!
“You’re a good guy and, as it turns out, quite talented,” I began cautiously.
“As a man!” he interrupted sharply, biting his piercing again.
“Stop doing that!” My nerves were frayed, and I couldn’t hold back my annoyance.
“Doing what?” Jungkook smirked and repeated the annoying gesture. “It’s a dumb habit, I agree. You can punish me, Mr. Kim.”
“That’s it! Get out!” I barked, losing control over my emotions and growing anger. “Before I will kill you.”
“You still didn’t say ‘no,’” Jungkook said, making me roll my eyes. I was doing that a lot lately, and it felt like they’d get stuck in the back of my skull. “Believe me, I can be very persistent. And it doesn’t matter who my father is! A dragon chooses a dragon and there is no other way!”
“What did you say?” I asked, being confused.
“I’ll explain later. Thanks for the competition, and have a good evening!” Jungkook slowly straightened up, letting his fingers barely graze the edge of the desk.
He turned away and left, leaving behind only a faint trace of woody cologne and a total chaos in my head.
I watched him go and realized that for the first time, I had no idea how to handle the situation.
***
Another week had passed, and I began to slowly realize that Jungkook wasn’t a temporary problem—he was a full-blown disaster that I’d have to learn to live with. Every day, he came up with something new, trying to throw me off the balance. And damn it, he was good at it. For example, on Monday, Jungkook brought me some tea. Under the saucer on the tray was a note: “With best wishes and dragon care…” I nearly choked when I saw it. By the way, the tea,, was perfectly brewed: green, without sugar—just how I like it, but that didn’t make the situation any less absurd. On Tuesday, he showed up in my office with a huge bouquet. I didn’t even get a chance to say a word before Jungkook placed the vase on my table and declared, “Just for the better mood” I stared at the flowers in a stunning silence, then at him, then back at the flowers, trying not to explode like a freaking Yellowstone, and finally hissed through clenched teeth, “Take this away right now!” He obediently removed the bouquet but with such a smug smile that it felt like he’d just won the lottery. On Wednesday, Jungkook unexpectedly started calling me not “Mr. Kim” but “Taehyung-nim.” I tried to explain that I didn’t particularly like that form of address, but he just shrugged and said, “Well, you’re older than me. I just respect you.” I almost asked him to call me “boss” but then thought better of it. I didn’t want to give him another excuse to flirt. And there was no doubt he was capable of it. Thursday became a real trial for me. Jungkook sent me an email asking to discuss new ideas for the collection. I looked on the screen suspiciously but had to open the file since all the designers had to run their concepts by me, and I was his mentor, after all. But instead of sketches, the file was filled with his photos. In different angles, outfits, and with unusual accessories. And the worst part was that I couldn’t stop staring at something entirely different. His body was perfect. Incredibly beautiful, aesthetic, with those damn tattoos that looked like a fragments of dragon scales intertwined with a mysterious patterns. Of course, it didn’t take even a ten minutes before that insufferable intern showed up in my office. I didn’t even bother mentioning the lack of a knock—that clearly wasn’t Jungkook’s style. He froze in the doorway, reading my reaction and looking more than pleased with what he saw. “What is this?” I managed to ask, nodding at the screen. “Do you like it?” He raised an eyebrow and sat down in front of me. “I can see that you do.” “Where did you get such an audacity?” I exhaled in a disbelief. “It’s not audacity, it’s a confidence. I’d never boast about something if I’m not sure I’m the best at it,” Jungkook explained calmly. “And here, I suppose, you have no doubts?” I squinted. “I did, until I saw your face!” He smiled smugly, and I had nothing to say because the photos were truly stunning, and my admiration was still written all over my face. “This has nothing to do with the new collection,” I muttered, closing the file in a hurry to stop staring at his body and blushing. “What inspires you, Taehyung-nim?” Jungkook asked all of a sudden. “It depends on the situation and my mood,” I explained patiently, not quite understanding what was he talking about . “For me, there’s only one source and he’s sitting right in front of me,” he started his dragon song again, and I was about to shut it down when he added, “I want to be your main source of inspiration, the center of your universe, and the one who’ll always be by your side.” “Jungkook!” I barked louder than intended, but all I got in return was his signature grin and not event a hint of fear. “Such a charming display of anger! I’ll send the sketches for the new collection by by the evening. Have a great day, Taehyung-nim!” The purple-haired whirlwind finally left my office, which now felt like a revolving door. I was definitely going to lose my mind because of him… Friday was the climax. Jungkook popped into my office during the lunch with a homemade cherry pie. I desperately tried to shoo him out, but his pout stopped me in my tracks. “I baked it myself,” Jungkook declared proudly. “It’s a family recipe! I’m not leaving until you try it!” It was easier to eat a slice of that damn pie quickly than to argue with such an unyielding brat. Resigned, I waved my hand and nodded for him to sit down. “You are cooking?” I asked, because the image of this guy with the tattoos didn’t exactly match with someone who’d fuss over the dough. “Of course!” He gave me a wide grin and cut a slice. “My grandmother taught me a lot.” I took a bite and noted the perfect balance of shortcrust pastry and tart cherries with a hint of cream. I savored it slowly, deliberately dragging out the moment as I watched Jungkook’s expectant gaze. “This is really incredible,” I finally said. “Of course it is! Made with love, Taehyung-nim! Have a great day!” He left looking so happy that I sat there smiling like an idiot for a long time. At that moment, I should’ve put an end to this, but I couldn’t explain my own stupid behavior. This was all wrong! Jungkook kept coming up with a new things, and I didn’t know how to react to it. On one hand, it was annoying as hell; on the other hand, it was amusing. But what scared me the most was that I was slowly getting used to it. Every morning, I found myself waiting for him to burst in with some new stunt, and on weekends, I kept thinking about his behavior and the intern particularly way too much. Sivan regularly called or texted, asking about his son’s progress and behavior. But every time I said everything was fine, he reacted somewhat ambiguously, almost skeptically, as if he knew more than I did. It was a little unnerving, and the very thought of telling him about Jungkook’s intentions crossed my mind more and more often. It would’ve been the right thing to do, but whenever I imagined Sivan’s reaction, I bit my tongue. In theory, I could put an end to this at any moment, but why I didn`t haste to do so? Maybe I was afraid to answer myself, so I pretended everything was fine. And I didn’t even notice the rumors spreading through the office that the new guy was wooing the boss, and the boss didn’t seem to mind. A month after that insufferable dragon-like miracle appeared in our office, I was told that we’d be flying to Brussels together. Fantastic! I feel over the moon now.
