“Eonnie, I’ll take a quick break. I’ll just be out back.”

“Sure. Just be back in 30 minutes.”

Hana bowed and slipped away, clutching her pencils and sketch pad. The familiar studio walls whispered memories—their shared laughter, the unspoken connection. Seeing him again ignited a creative spark; designs bloomed in her mind like forgotten flowers.

“Yah.” Heechul’s voice sliced through her concentration. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be assisting?”

“Mr. Kim!” Hana’s heart raced. “Sorry. I lost track of time. I’ll return immediately.” She gathered her belongings and fled back to the dressing room.

“Aish.” Heechul lingered, drawn by a sketch left on the table. The design resonated with his style, tailored for his frame. He traced the lines, captivated by its elegance.

He marched to the dressing room, clutching the sketch. He wanted to call her, but her name eluded him. He didn’t know her number, yet destiny had woven their paths together once more. He found her packing up, her eyes wide as he showed her the design.

“Did you draw this?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Can I see the other designs? I like this one.” He sat on the couch, curiosity piqued.

“I…” Her hesitation melted under his scrutiny, and she handed over her sketchbook.

He flipped through the pages, each design a revelation. She understood him—the cuts, the fabrics, the essence of his being. How could a stranger capture