SEVENTEEN | Imagines

Wonwoo (III)

Wonwoo

Wonwoo had simultaneously the best and worst job in the world.

. . . 

"Wonwoo!" You called sharply over the phone, "There is a meeting in five and you're still dawdling in the breakroom? What's the matter with you?"

There was some muffled rustling over the mike as you waited impatiently for your P.A. to respond. "Wonwoo?"

"I'm coming, I'm coming ma'am." His voice was frazzled and out of breath. "Just give me a minute."

You clicked your tongue. "That better be a literal minute. And don't call me ma'am, I'm not even older than you. By much."

"Okay, okay." The call ended. You sighed as your waited for Wonwoo to arrive, what on earth was he doing? He usually wasn't so irresponsible.

. . .

Wonwoo took a deep breath to compose himself, his heart was racing a mile a minute as he stared at the phone in his hand.

This won't do.

He wondered if he just liked torturing himself, because that's what working with you felt like. You weren't easy to work with at all, you were so incredibly driven and determined, it felt like he was always two steps behind. Which he was, all he did was follow you around, it was his job.

But you were a little bit of a slave driver, you expected so much from your employees and was ruthless when they messed up. Often times people would be too afraid to tell you of their mistakes because they knew that they would be chewed out.

No one spoke badly of you though. They knew that no matter how hard they worked, it wouldn't even come close to how much you laboured over the company, how much you loved it and lived to protect it. The passion they could see in you every day inspired them as well, which was one of the points that made you so charismatic and inspiring.

Wonwoo thought the same, in fact, he felt even more affected because he knew firsthand how hard on yourself you were. You expected utmost perfection from yourself and he saw how much you would beat yourself up over the tiniest mistakes. 

Maybe that's why he couldn't quit. No matter how much be wanted to, leaving you would mean giving up his ability to protect you from yourself. He cared too much; it went beyond what he was supposed to feel.

He remembered when he first met you; your eyes scanned him closely and he could feel that you weren't just evaluating his appearance. He felt uncomfortable, he knew that you could see things that hid beneath the surface and judge him because of that. When he shook your hand, it was surprisingly small and warm in his, causing the tiniest shiver to run up his spine.

"Hello Wonwoo," your voice was so filled with character that he found himself wanting to hear you speak even more.

"Good morning, ma'am." He bowed awkwardly.

"I cannot be that much older than you," there was a playfulness to your tone that was contradicted by the cold, calculating gaze that was still studying him. "Besides, a handsome young man like yourself should know better than to refer to someone my age as 'ma'am'."

"I meant no disrespect," Wonwoo backpedaled quickly, "It's just calling you 'miss' would imply a frivolousness that you don't have."

Your smile was dazzling as you finally lost all traces of coldness; Wonwoo was so struck by your presence that was only enhanced by your beauty that he almost didn't catch what you said next.

"Well then, I look forward to working with you," you grinned, much more at ease. It seemed that Wonwoo met your approval. "I'll see you starting tomorrow, my P.A."