You’ve spent another sleepless night, for a totally different reason than the night before. You are up, just not fully functioning yet when there is a knock on your door. You peek through the little hole and see only a single red rose. Leaving the latch on, you pull the door open just enough to glance through. What you see can’t help but make you smile. You close the door to release the latch, and reopen it to the most adorable man standing in the hallway with a red rose between his teeth. He wiggles his eyebrows at you, and grabs you by the waist as he twirls you back into the room. He replaces the rose with your lips, than presents it to you with a bow. “Jagi, while I totally don’t mind what you’re wearing,” he says with a wink. “Are you good to go out in public that way?” “Public? I’m not going anywhere in public with you again.” He gives you a sweet smile and cups your face in his hands, “Damage is done Jagi. Seeing us together doesn’t matter now.” He places a kiss on your forehead, “But I was talking about just getting to my car.” He reaches over to grab your bag, and smacks you on the butt as he hands it to you pointing to the bathroom, “Go.” You arrive at your destination in what looks like a residential area. He helps you out and escorts you to the outer door. In the entrance area he holds out a box with a ribbon on it. He removes his own shoes, puts on his slippers, then reaches over to untie the bow on the box. You remove the lid to find a brand new pair of slippers. He takes the box as you remove the slippers and kneels before you. He slips your shoes off and the new slippers on. You glance over at the other slippers by the door. “I could have just used a pair of those,” you say, pointing to the corner. He smiles down at you, “Those are for ordinary guests; you are a special guest. One that I hope will visit often; that deserves a pair just for you.” He opens the interior door, “Welcome to my home.” You thought the entrance was very nicely decorated with his bear bricks and painting. Now, as he pulls you inside the door, you have to step over meowing cats. He bends down to pet them, “Ah Ah, papa is home, no crying now. Look I brought you a new friend.” He picks them up one by one and introduces them to you. “I’m not sure if you can say their names in Korean so, this is Wollie and this is Johnny.” The cats want nothing to do with you, but thankfully they don’t hiss at you. He takes you on a quick tour of his house, your steps being dogged by cats the entire way. You have to love the way he dotes on them and talks to them, it is obvious they love him. You end up in the kitchen where he sits you down on a barstool; “I know you have not eaten, I will feed you.” He happily turns and starts pulling items out of the fridge. Life seems so surreal at this moment; you’re in a country you’ve always wanted to visit, you’re doing a job you love, and by some miracle, you are on the receiving end of an extremely hot Asian male’s affection. You sigh happily as you watch him add ingredients into the water for soup. He starts singing and doing a little dance while working. No one can blame you for your smile as you enjoy the view. His phone rings just as lunch is finishing. He excuses himself to take it, so you decide to clean up for him. It’s only fair right? He cooked, you should clean. Turning off the water you realize that you can now hear his side of the conversation. He is speaking so quickly in Korean that you can only pick up a few words here and there. Yes, no, a week, don’t care, wrong, and fix it. You really hope it isn’t about last night but your gut is telling you otherwise. As you put the last of the dishes in the drying rack, he comes up and hugs you from behind. “You didn’t have to clean.” “You cooked, I’m happy to do my part,” you say as you turn in his arms. He places a kiss on your collarbone, making his way up your neck. “I like seeing you in my house, washing my dishes.” You lean back and smack him with the dish towel, “Chauvinist!” He grabs the dish towel, throwing it away over his shoulder. “Not chauvinist; honest” he says and he pulls you in for a nice, long kiss. When you both surface for air, you try and ask casually, “So, who was on the phone?” He has gone back to nibbling on your neck and you can’t tell if he really just likes the way you smell or if he’s trying to avoid the question. “Jun.K; I don’t want to talk about him.” You try again, “It wasn’t about last night was it?” He sighs and raises his head to look at you. “Yes. He is worried about the picture. He and Woo came out and saw us getting in the car, and someone running away.” He raises your chin so your eyes meet his, “He thinks I am moving too fast, he is being over protective, the leader. Everything will be fine.” He takes your hand and leads you into the living room. He holds up an action movie DVD, “I’ve wanted to see this; okay?” You nod, you’ve seen it. It was pretty good, you don’t mind re-watching it. Besides it means you get to snuggle up with him on the couch. Towards the end of the movie, he receives a text. He checks it, sighs, types in a quick response, and throws the phone on the other end of couch. He reaches over, pulls you tighter against him, shifts slightly and kisses the top of your head. It doesn’t take a genius to know that whatever was in that text was about you, and it wasn’t good.