Hahm Yunhee is nothing special, just an average girl trying to make ends meet. She adores her boyfriend, Kim Taehyung; he's sweet, charismatic and a little bit mysterious, but twelve months into their relationship and things are going down the pan.
...
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Yunhee was dead.
At least, she presumed she was, but her fingers tingled with pins and needles, her limbs felt bizarrely out of place, and there was a strange metallic taste on her tongue as she tried to open her eyelids. No, she couldn't be dead, this was definitely not heaven. This was a hell for idiots with hangovers.
'Jesus, Tae,' she complained, removing the arm twisted awkwardly beneath her, 'how much did you let me drink last night?'
Peeking out through one tired eye, Yunhee glimpsed along her body and saw one leg dangling off the edge of an unfamiliar leather couch.
Oh God; she hadn't even made it home?
Disorientated and confused, she tried to piece together the fragments in her mind. There was a frightful drowsiness that consumed her and she wondered if she'd gotten wasted and hit by a double decker bus.
With a painful groan, Yunhee shook out the numbness in her arm, relieved to feel the blood rushing through her veins as she pulled herself into a sitting position.
The second she was vertical, a wave of nausea hit her and she instantly dropped her head between her knees. Odd, her shoes were on and her baseball cap was on the floor at her feet.
What on earth... she thought, holding her arms out to inspect her clothing. Why was she wearing her work uniform?
Carefully rising to her feet, Yunhee rubbed the back of her neck and looked around. This was most definitely not her bedroom, or any room in her apartment, come to think of it. This was somebody's swanky office, a classy bureau lined with rich coloured walls, expensive furniture and-
'Holy shiitake mushrooms!' Yunhee yelped, hand flying to her chest when she realised that she was not alone.
A man leaned against a mahogany desk with folded arms, observing her in silence. He barely flinched upon her discovery, outwardly unfazed by her presence while Yunhee's mind tried to rationalisethe scene in her head.
One thing was for sure, this fella with his tailored suit was suave and debonair with a cocky air about him. He was also the boss who'd bumped into her when she'd been snooping around that dive of a club.
Yunhee sighed dramatically and swiped her hat from the floor. Why did she always find herself in these crazy circumstances? Of course; she was not hungover, she was at the House of Cards.
'Bloody hell,' she muttered, stuffing her hat into her pocket as she cagily eyed the stranger on the other side of the room.
It wasn't a substantial issue, but when Yunhee's blood sugars were low, she had a tendency to hit the deck. It was evident she had passed out in the hallway, and this chap had carried her into his office and dumped her on his sofa like a ragdoll.
On top of that, he had yet to speak a word or ask her if she was actually okay.
'Hey,' she greeted, trying to calm her aggravation. 'What happened?'
