• Love For Rent •JC

Chapter 03 • Unrequited Love.

Third Person
Omniscient Pov:

---

Once the bus halted, Jeonghan bolted off, weaving through the crowd with a desperate sense of urgency. The evening light cast a golden hue over the streets, but he had no time to appreciate it. Every second that ticked by seemed to amplify the dread building in his stomach. The restaurant he worked at, his only source of income, had one rule that everyone feared breaking: **Never be late**. And today, of all days, he was cutting it dangerously close.

His chest tightened with anxiety as he neared the restaurant’s entrance. His boss, a man known for his strictness and impossibly high standards, was likely waiting inside, and Jeonghan could already imagine the sharp gaze and taut jaw that would be directed his way. He could practically feel the authority radiating from his boss, an aura that was almost tangible, laced with a scent Jeonghan couldn’t quite place—something crisp and slightly woodsy, commanding yet refined. Just the thought of that scent brought a strange mix of calm and tension to his nerves, grounding him even as it made him more aware of his impending scolding.

With the restaurant only steps away, he considered his options. Maybe, if he could slip through the emergency exit and make it to the staff room, he could clock in before anyone noticed. But as he sidestepped around to the rear of the building and reached for the handle, a hand clamped down firmly on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

“Where do you think you’re going, Yoon Jeonghan?” The voice was calm, even, but with an unmistakable authority that made Jeonghan’s pulse jump. He turned slowly, meeting the gaze of his boss, whose eyes were unreadable, the tension in the air thickened by the faint yet distinct scent that surrounded him—a blend of cedar, musk, and something subtly sweet. It was a scent that demanded attention, a silent assertion of control that left Jeonghan momentarily speechless.

Jeonghan stammered, feeling small under that steady gaze. “I-I’m sorry, sir. I know I’m late, but please, don’t fire me. I promise this won’t happen again.”

The older man’s gaze softened slightly, though his scent remained as firm and steady as his presence. “It’s your first time being late, so I’ll let it slide. But consider this your only warning. Next time, you won’t be so lucky.” His voice was stern, but there was an undercurrent of understanding, a gentleness that belied his tough exterior.

As he released his grip, Jeonghan exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, relief washing over him. His boss’s scent still lingered, almost calming now, a quiet reassurance that despite his tough words, he understood. Jeonghan bowed deeply in gratitude, the 90-degree angle of his bow emphasizing his respect.

“Thank you, sir. I promise I’ll do better,” he said, voice slightly shaky with lingering nerves. His boss gave him a brief nod, the faintest hint of a smile touching his lips, before he turned and walked away, leaving Jeonghan to slip into the staff room and throw on his uniform.

He took a few deep breaths, letting the anxiety drain from his body. With each breath, he could still detect traces of his boss’s scent lingering faintly in his memory, steadying him. It was odd how something so subtle could leave such an impression, but Jeonghan felt a strange sort of comfort from it, as if it reminded him of stability, something he so often felt was missing in his own life. But there was no time to dwell on it—he had work to do.

---

The evening moved by in a blur of clinking dishes, orders shouted across the kitchen, and the soft buzz of conversation from the dining area. Jeonghan threw himself into his tasks, focusing on keeping up with the rush, trying to erase any trace of his earlier panic. The kitchen’s warmth, the savory aroma of sizzling dishes, and the comforting, familiar scents of the ingredients all helped ground him, pulling him back into the rhythm of work.