Chasing Perfection || Lee Know

Don't Let Go

The days that followed were quiet, not cold, not distant exactly, but... different.
Minho was still Minho.
Still the man who kissed her shoulder before bed, who brewed her coffee just right in the morning, who reached for her hand in the car even at red lights.
Still flirty, still affectionate, still him.

But there was something in his eyes.
A flicker. A weight.
His arms were around her, yes, but sometimes it felt like his mind wasn't.

Hyejin didn't ask again.
Not because she didn't want to know, she ached to know, but because something about the tension in his shoulders, the subtle tightness in his smile, told her this wasn't something she could fix with one conversation.
So instead... she waited.

⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚۰˚☽˚⁀➷｡˚⸙͎۪۫⋆ ༄

Friday afternoon:
She got off work early, just past 4 PM, and he was already parked outside the hotel, leaned against his sleek black car, sunglasses on, dressed like a full-blown luxury CEO thirst trap.

When he saw her, he grinned that stupid grin of his, the one that had always undone her.
"Well, well, if it isn't Head Chef Heartbreaker."
She rolled her eyes and kissed him on the cheek anyway. "What's this about?"

"You've got an engagement party tomorrow," he said, opening the door for her. "And I hope you haven't planned on walking in there wearing your apron and flour coated slacks. We're going shopping."

They hit Garosu-gil first, hopping between the high-end boutiques tucked in the quieter lanes.
Hyejin tried on dress after dress — champagne chiffon, emerald silk, one particularly loud red gown Minho couldn't stop laughing at.
"Why do I look like a Valentine's Day card?"
"You look like my future heart attack," he grinned, smirking behind his phone camera. "In the best way."

Still... none of them felt right. Too loud. Too plain. Too not-her.

She was about to give up when the store clerk walked out with that dress.
A soft, baby blue satin number with delicate straps, a subtle cowl neckline, and a back that dipped just low enough to feel dangerous.
It was the color of quiet skies and summer lullabies.

Minho's eyes darkened the second she stepped out of the fitting room.
He didn't speak at first. He just stared.
And for a moment, she felt completely bare, completely seen.

He stood, walked toward her slowly, and brushed a single hand along the dip of her waist.
"This one," he murmured.
She turned to look at herself in the mirror, slightly stunned. "...It's really pretty."

"'Pretty' isn't the word I'd use," he said softly, eyes still on her. "You look like every good thing I've ever wanted. Wrapped in silk."

She rolled her eyes, heart thudding, and smacked his chest lightly. "You're embarrassing."
"You're breathtaking."

He bought the dress.
And the matching powder blue heels.
And a delicate pearl-stitched Lady Dior purse that made her eyes nearly pop at the price tag but he just smirked.
"I dress my woman like I breathe. Effortlessly."

As they exited the boutique and stepped back into the city's gold-lit streets, Minho reached for her hand again, holding it tighter than usual.
She leaned into his side, holding the shopping bag in her free hand, and smiled.
"You know you didn't have to do all that."

"I know," he said, quietly. "But I wanted to."
There was that flicker again. That almost-pain in his eyes.
Like this night, this dress, this memory was something he needed to give her.

Hyejin didn't push.
She squeezed his hand and whispered, "Thank you, Min."
He leaned down to kiss the side of her head.
"Anything for you, baby."