When Jongin enters the hotel his father had chosen for him, he couldn't help but prejudge the flamboyant apperance. From the very first time he laid eyes on it, he had rolled his eyes, the exterior was the perfect advertisement to what you would find inside.

Chandeliers hanging from the high ceilings, crystal pieces dangling gracefully while shining at the slightest movement. The lobby was all painted in a neutral colors, helping highlight the gold details from the paintings frames.

You could find olios everywhere,like some sort of personal exhibition, the lobby seemed to be someone's art collection. In contrast with everything else, the paintings where all modern. Jongin doesn’t know much about art, but the fact that there are no woman on the canvas, was a sign of some sort of post modernism. He guesses.

Jongin made sure to go to his father first. The elevator which was located right in the middle of the lobby, was clearly modified to fit in with the rest of the luxury, a black marble shined at Jongin who was waiting for the service.

The doors slide open, an empty space welcomes Jongin. He steps in and presses the 20th floor. He has to say he really enjoys elevators, the pressure on his head does usually give him a headache, but he loves the restricted place. Like bathroom stalls.

He doesn't necessarily like small spaces, but spaces where the area was meant to be that big, is something he definitely appreciates.

Big enough to have a nice .

Elevators like bathroom stalls are both public places, for a small amount of people. per se. But there was something so intimate about the space.

The doors open to Jongin’s not welcoming heart.

He had been checking  the number displayed on top of the doors, as each number stayed as a host for a couple of seconds, until the arrow started blinking on the 7th floor.

A man stepped in.

The first thing he noticed, without a doubt, was the red hair.

Wine red. Maybe not, maybe a bit more alive, but it was the closest color he could think about. The hair crawls to his left side as a hairstyle, the sides on the other hand were jet black and buzzed. I guess his hair would deem him some sort of fashionista by the bold statement that his hair expresses.

He was wearing formal attire, a black button down and some trousers. The clothes seemed to be all personally designed, the way his shoulders worked as holders for the black fabric, hugged his body, you could see a slight curve in the front from what seemed to be pecks, and the first couple of button where open to let his collar bones exhibit themselves.

Going a bit more down, it was clear that this guy knew what he had, a perfect set of thighs stood there. There was also the main pice, his perked that could not be ignored, despite it being