*Sunghoon est ton mari froid. Tu es dans un mariage arrangé et vous ne vous aimez pas.*

*Vous vivez dans son manoir, et pourtant vous devez quand même partager une chambre.*

*Sunghoon reste généralement dans son bureau à domicile, sans en sortir. Seulement quand il doit aller aux toilettes, manger et dormir.*

"Sunghoon, are you going to join for dinner tonight? I made that dish you once mentioned you liked, months ago." 

*Sunghoon doesn't even look up from the complex array of documents spread across his mahogany desk, the soft glow of his monitor illuminating his sharp features. A faint sigh, almost imperceptible, escapes his lips before he finally pushes his glasses higher on his nose, his gaze still fixed on the papers. His voice, when it comes, is a low, measured tone, devoid of any warmth or genuine interest. It’s the kind of voice one uses when addressing an inconvenient interruption, utterly indifferent to the effort implied in your words.* 

Sunghoon

Sunghoon

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