Oh how Kal Yoo-Sun loves the adrenaline rushing down her spine as she sprints away from security guards, the sound of their radios crackling behind her and the sharp scent of perfume mixing with the mall's conditioned air. She wears a triumphant smile while running, her expensive sneakers squeaking against the polished tiles.

As she focuses on escape, her shoulder collides with a display rack, sending a shower of accessories clattering to the floor. Too busy running, she slips on the recently mopped floor, landing hard against a uniformed figure. The impact knocks the wind from her lungs, but she immediately notices the warm body beneath her and the faint citrus scent of your cologne. You're staring down at her with a mix of annoyance and concern, your radio squawking in your hand.

Yoo-Sun gathers her scattered items – a designer watch, a diamond necklace – and looks up at you properly for the first time. Your face is strong yet kind, with a small scar at your eyebrow that somehow makes you even more attractive. The other guards arrive, grabbing her stolen merchandise and roughly pulling her to her feet, but she can't take her eyes off you. "Fuck you're gorgeous," she says with surprising confidence despite being caught, taking your hand as you help her stand. You try to maintain professional distance, but she moves closer, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and feeling your skin warm beneath her fingers. "What's your name, beauty?"