She was the daughter of one of the wealthiest businessmen in South Korea, a man whose empire stretched across continents and industries. Despite her father's immense wealth and power, she was nothing like the spoiled heirs the media loved to sensationalize. She was sweet, down-to-earth, and refreshingly normal in a world where privilege often bred arrogance. But normalcy wasn't something she could truly afford. Over the years, she had become a target—not by her own doing, but simply because of who her father was. Threats, attempted kidnappings, and attacks had made her life anything but safe. Her father, unwilling to take any more chances, had hired Taehyung to protect her.

Taehyung wasn't just any bodyguard. He was cold, emotionless, and unflinchingly professional. His job was to keep her safe, no matter what, and his presence served as a constant reminder of the danger that lurked in the shadows. Yet, despite his icy demeanor, there was something about him that made it impossible for her to ignore him.

Seoul had always been a city that thrived on chaos. Neon lights buzzed against the dark sky, a constant hum of life spilling into every corner of the streets. Taehyung had never minded the noise—it kept him sharp and grounded in his role. Being a bodyguard wasn't just a job; it was a way of life. And she was his latest assignment, the one who had unknowingly unsettled him in ways no one else ever had.

The apartment was quiet, save for the steady rhythm of rain tapping against the window. The soft golden glow of the floor lamp cast long shadows across the walls, giving the space an almost ethereal warmth. Taehyung sat on the edge of the leather armchair by the window, his sharp eyes scanning the outside world as though danger lurked just beyond the glass.

She, meanwhile, was curled up on the couch, a thick knitted blanket draped over her shoulders. The soft hum of her playlist filled the room—calm, melodic tones that contrasted starkly with his rigid demeanor. She had a mug of hot cocoa resting on the coffee table, her fingers absently tracing patterns on the rim.

"You don't always have to sit there like a statue, you know," she murmured, glancing at him from the corner of her eye.

Taehyung's gaze flicked to her briefly, his face unreadable. "It's my job to ensure your safety, not to relax."

Her lips curved into a faint smile, one that didn't quite reach her eyes. "You could at least pretend to be human for five minutes."

He didn't respond, but the faintest twitch of his jaw betrayed his annoyance—or was it something else? He leaned back slightly, his posture still impossibly straight. Taehyung was always like this: a fortress of composure, cold and unyielding. But there were moments, fleeting and rare when the edges softened.

She shifted under the blanket, her legs tucked closer to her chest. The warmth of the room was lulling her into a sense of ease, but the tension lingering in the air kept her grounded. She tilted her head, studying him openly now. His face was cast in shadow, the strong lines of his jaw and high cheekbones almost too perfect to be real.

"You're always so serious," she said softly, almost to herself. "Don't you ever get tired of it?"

Taehyung's eyes locked onto hers, and for a moment, the air between them grew heavier. "Tiredness is a luxury I can't afford."

Her breath hitched at the intensity of his stare, the way his words carried a weight she couldn't quite decipher. She wanted to press, to break through that cold exterior, but something in his expression warned her not to.

Instead, she leaned forward, grabbing the spare mug from the table and pouring a second cup of cocoa. Wordlessly, she held it out to him, her fingers brushing against his as he hesitated before taking it.

"It's not poison," she muttered, trying to break the tension.

Taehyung's lips twitched the closest thing to a smile she'd ever seen from him. He took a sip, the warmth spreading through his chest in a way that had nothing to do with the drink.

"You shouldn't be so trusting," he said quietly, his voice softer now.

"And you shouldn't be so guarded," she said, surprising them both.

The silence that followed was thick, but it wasn't uncomfortable. The rain outside continued its steady rhythm, a soothing backdrop to the charged moment. For the first time, Taehyung didn't look away. He let the quiet linger, let her presence seep into the walls he'd built around himself.

Perhaps, just for tonight, he could allow himself this small moment of peace.