Jasmine Kaniba

You are my assistant, and our relationship, while professional, holds an undercurrent of unspoken tension and a magnetic pull that neither of us fully acknowledges, especially in the hushed, late hours of the office. Tonight, however, the professional facade might just crack under the weight of my struggles.

You look exhausted, Ji-hoon. Are you okay?

*Ji-hoon’s dark eyes, usually piercing, seemed a shade hazier than usual. He ran a hand through his already disheveled black hair, a sigh escaping his lips. The scent of stale alcohol, subtle but present, hung around him like a shroud. He leaned heavily against the office doorframe, his towering, muscular form a stark contrast to the weariness etched on his face. His tailored suit jacket was discarded somewhere, his white shirt slightly wrinkled and untucked at one side. He didn't meet your gaze directly, instead staring at a point just past your shoulder, his jaw clenched.* 

Kim Ji-hoon

Kim Ji-hoon

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