"Do you like it?" she licks her glossy lips, and I nod. "Yes. This is amazing as always, sweetheart," I praise her, loving to do it and knowing it makes her feel better. I put a smile on her face with mine, but I take hold of the dish, and I turn around to lean on the counter and eat the rest of my comforting breakfast, staying next to her.

"Can I stay here today?" Hajoon asks me, but I shake my head. "Why would you?"

"To be with her," he gives me the answer I expected to hear, but I still do not accept. "No. You go to school."

"Dammit," he huffs and walks away, leaving to head to the front door since it is time for him to go. "See you, and," he looks in our direction, holding his school bag. "Keep that on once I'm back, y/n," he giggles and escapes before I could even scold him.

"Gosh," I do not appreciate his comment and glance at the girl by my side, but she smiles and lays her eyes on me, and for some reason, I maintain the contact between us.

"How do you find the dress? Is it...bad?" my opinion is wanted. I cannot tell her the truth, the dress itself is pretty, it is ten times even better on her, and of course, this is sexy, but I cannot say that. "It's pretty, just a bit too short."

"Oh..." she slides one hand up her arm, my answer probably making her feel different in her clothes. I keep my eyes on her and find other words to not make her feel uncomfortable. "I mean, you're gorgeous in it. I just feel like I'm forcing you to wear this, and the fact that a few men will be there and see you as a servant or something like that ticks me off."

"It's okay. I like this dress, and I'll tell you if something ever makes me feel uneasy around them," she gives me her words, which reassure me. I smile at her, simply, always having this sensation in my chest that tells me I feel good and relaxed when I look at her.

"Anyway," she intertwines her fingers in front of her body and presses her lips together. "How are you doing today?" she asks me, willing to know how I feel with all the problems I have to deal with. I do not regret telling her everything, she makes me feel special again. The care, admiration, and respect, she gives them all to me, and I cannot ask for more.

"I'm doing all right, what about you?" I finish my food and move to put the empty dish in the dishwasher. "I'm fine. I just hope I won't make any mistakes."

"You won't, there is just one thing that I think would be great. You should always remain somewhere when you don't have anything to do, like, stay on one spot and maybe wait for me to ask for you or call you...I don't know. I'm going to have to act strict in front of them, but do not think that I'm being serious, I don't want you to be hurt or feel like I'm different when other people are around. Okay?" I try to explain without sounding bad, and she nods to me. She really is devoted. "Is there anything else I must do?"

"I..." my brain seeks some ideas, some thoughts that might be important. I tuck my hands in my pockets but do not find any. "No, not really."

"Okay," she never looks scared or bothered by this whole thing. Actually, this is the opposite, she truly seems happy to help me. Not knowing what to say more, I just look at her, but she fiddles with her dress, and I catch her peeking down at my torso again. "I should finish what I started," she flees away, making me grin but check what she is doing.

She stands right before the ironing board, and she takes care of my dress shirt when I was supposed to do it.

I do not speak but think while drinking my iced coffee, my eyes remaining on y/n as she is not facing me. I do not know how I will be able to keep my eyes off of her, I need to protect her if she wears this when my colleagues are around me.

Since I feel like changing my mind, I put the cup down and walk towards her in a quiet manner. I tuck my hands in the pockets of my trousers, and I lean closer to her, but she turns towards me as she must have felt my presence from so close. We both gaze into each other's eyes and smile.

"What's wrong?" she nibbles on her inner cheek, and I shrug but look down at her dress, and reach out for the bottom of it. "I think you should not wear it."

"Why? I don't mind," she puts the iron down, and I run my fingers through my hair. "This just...does not look right. I don't know. You're doing it just for me, and I feel bad for making you do so. I don't want them to see you in this. Really."

"Mister Jeon, I told you, I like this dress anyway, so you're not forcing me or anything," she uses the words she believes to be right, but I keep my hand in my hair, on the back of my head. "All right. Let's do something. Since you wear this for me, I'll give you something in return. Just whatever you want."

"I like this even more then," she smiles and does not hide how greater this turned for her, making me chuckle. "And what will you ask for?"

"You said I can ask for whatever I want, right?" she waits before finishing the task, and she joins her hands. "Yes. Whatever you want."

"Okay, a hug or kiss will be enough..." she asks for. "If you're fine with it, of course."

"I'm totally fine with it," I do not refuse this since she is the sweetest, and I move forth, cup her waist with one hand, and press a kiss on her cheek. "Here, you can already get one," I give it to her but notice in her body language that I got her to be shy. "Tell me when you want the hug."

She looks at me into the eyes to never separate us, and I do not break the contact. "Well..." she makes it evident she wants one now, but I still spur her to say it, willing to hear her ask for it. "Well? What does that mean?"

"Well maybe means now...Maybe..." she does not dare to be straightforward. "But...maybe..." she turns towards me and puts her arms around me without even letting me do it first, and she rests her head on my bare chest. The warmth she causes in my heart heats up, and I hold her tight, but since no one is here, I glide my hand up to her jawline to hold it, and I kiss her forehead. "I'll give you as many kisses and hugs as you want if you like them."

"I like them because they're from you..." she speaks in a quieter voice as if she was not confident enough to say it out loud. I get those hints and do not reject them. I feel so close to her, and the physical contact becomes more frequent between us every day, I just cannot pretend to not like it. It feels good, and since she told me that I make her feel safe, it is even more pleasing and important to me. I love it. I love to hold her and know that she feels protected and safe in my arms.

"Why are you so...cuddly?" she giggles in my chest but makes me let out the same type of noise. "Am I? I didn't know," I set my eyes on her now that she raised her head up. "You are, a lot," she asserts. "But I need to finish my task," she focuses back on the dress shirt, and I grin. "Oh, because from what I remember, my abs, tall and muscular body are very intimidating, not cuddly," I stare at her after exposing her and the words she told to my son.

Her lips curve up into a smile full of regret, and she bites them. "I..." she loses her senses, unable to speak. "I never...I do not remember saying that..." she denies it, so I lean forward and obligates her to look into my eyes. "You don't? Are you sure about that?"

"I...am not sure, Mister Jeon," she avoids lying to not be a bad girl and do something she claimed she would never do. "Because you're not...like...very tall...you know...Six-foot-five is not that tall..."

"No, not at all. I agree with you, this is actually small," I play along, loving how cute she is when she stutters. "Yeah...I know right," she averts her eyes from me and looks down at the clothing, so I laugh in a discreet manner and leave her alone with this. "You're cute."

The whispers that slipped out of my mouth get heard, and her face reveals the effect it had on her. "Anyway...I wanted to ask you if you would like me to cook something special for your colleagues and boss."

"No need to, I'll order something and pretend I cooked," I shake my head, not making her do even more work when she already has enough things to do in this house. "Are you sure?"

"I am very sure, sweetheart. No need to do more," I answer her and make sure she does not do it. "Okay."

•••

11:20 am.

"Jungkook," one of my colleagues, who I do not appreciate, speaks closer to my face, holding his drink as I just checked up on y/n for the hundredth time. "How old is your household again?" he only focuses on her, and I hold back from showing my wrath. "Twenty."

"Ah yeah. And what does your wife think about it?" he lays his eyes on her, and I clench my jaw. "She doesn't like her, but I don't care."

"Probably because she's pretty," he does not keep quiet and has to mention this. "She is, but this is not the reason why I hired her."

"Don't lie. I'm a man, we all feel the same way about that," he dares to include me in that category of uneducated guys who do not respect women or who treat them like objects. I clear my throat to keep calm in front of the people in my house, but I peek at y/n, who is staying next to the TV screen and doing exactly like I asked her to. I hate myself so much for asking her to do this. "I'm not like that. She is just a respectful and sweet person. She does her job like I want her to."

"Honestly, you need to loosen up a little. Like, I have a wife, but if I had this girl in my house twenty-four hours a day, I would find it very hard to stay loyal," he disgusts me with his words, and I ignore him. "Hm," I take a sip of my drink and walk away at the exact second that I notice a colleague stay for too long near y/n.

I step towards them, making my way between the other people. I empty my drink on the way to them, and once I am at her level, I establish myself and hand her my glass. "Can you serve me some red wine, please?" I do something I would never do on a daily basis, but she smiles at me and does as told, so I turn towards the one who is known to be the pervert.

"Do not try anything, all right?" I make myself clear. "You leave her alone."

"I was not doing anything," he sneers and goes away, so I walk to the room made for the bottles of wine and alcohol where y/n is. I enter the room without caring about the people in my house, and I close the door behind me, getting her to be startled.

"Hey," I smile at her, but she returns this expression with a tender gaze. I've noticed some nervousness each time I looked at her, and I kind of feel guilty for putting her through this, so now that I am close and alone with her, I want to check how she is doing.

"Are you okay?" I brush my thumb over her cheek, and she makes eye contact. "I am. I hope I haven't made any mistakes yet," she pours some of the red liquid in the balloon glass. "Y/n. I told you not to worry about this. You're doing great as always. No need to feel like that."

"I know," she faintly responds and puts the bottle down, but I keep my eyes on her the whole time. "Seeing you nervous makes me feel terribly bad. Do not feel under pressure, please."

"I just want to do great for you," she links her arms behind her back, getting more and more influenced by my opinion and wants. "You always do great," I flatten my hands on the table, staring into her eyes and smiling with sincerity. She remains silent after my answer, but I do not put an end to this moment, the quietness not even bothering me, disturbing me, or causing some uneasiness.

"Did one of the men annoy you?" I ask, hoping for the answer to be negative and not make me act upon their behavior. "No, they did not."

"Okay," I trust her words since she has not shown any signs that always expose her lies. "But are you uncomfortable around them?"

Now, I discern it. I discern, by the look into her eyes, that she is afraid to tell me the truth.

"It's just a bit difficult because I'm not used to being around so many men, but I'm fine because you're here," she gives her reply based on me only again as if everything revolved around me.

The corner of my lips uncontrollably curves up, but I need some answers to the questions I have been willing to ask her.

"Why? Why is everything all right when I'm near you?" I straighten my back and wait for her to speak out and finally be honest about this. I know what it means when a girl or woman feels safe with a man, especially when she tells that man in question. "Because...I know you're a good man, I feel protected no matter what."

"But when no one is around, that we're both alone together, why do you feel good and comfortable? Why do you always do everything possible to make me proud of you? Why do you do all of this for me?" I cannot keep those to myself anymore, looking into the window to her soul. She now changes of posture, unwittingly expressing some disquietude and lack of confidence.

"Because you deserve it...I don't know..." she shrugs, hiding some things from me in order to not let all her words out. I lick my lips but do not know how to react exactly, she's one of the most considerate person I have ever met, and this makes me feel very vulnerable, for some reason.

"You should not be so kind with people, y/n. Think about yourself as well, not the others all the time," I try to advise her since some people might use her and take advantage of that. "But what if making others happy make me happy?"

She is unbelievable.

My smile widens, and I shake my head. "This probably feels good to you now, but in the future when you will think back on all the things you've done for those people, and what they did in return for you, you will regret not focusing more on yourself. Trust me. I know what it is to be like that, I'm the exact same, and I always end up getting hurt and disappointed."

"I know...but..." her sentence does not sound the way I want it to. "I just...I don't care about myself..." she breaks my heart without even knowing. I hate to hear this from her. "But I care about you," the words go out nearly instinctively as if I had been waiting to tell her this. "I do not want you to do something just for me and not care whether this makes you uncomfortable, or that it is hard for you. I do not want this to happen because you come first no matter what."

"If you say so," she does not mean it and grabs the bottle of wine and the glass to leave, but I stop her. "Get in your room, I'm joining you in a minute," I take the bottle of wine, and she gazes at me. "Where do I put your glass?"

"Keep it for me, I'm coming," I tell her to do, and she obeys without asking any question. Once she goes out of the room, I drink at the bottle, hating myself for the things I am doing, saying, or thinking. I need to take a break, clear my head, or something else. I have no idea.

I stop drinking right when I hear some glass shatter, and some loud voices. I put the bottle down and hurry to get out of here to see what is going on in the living room.