It’s surprising to everyone how quickly the next argument ensues.

It's only hours later that Hwayoung marches into Baekhyun’s office, the male snapping out of his daze as he simply gazes at the view outside the window with a cigarette hanging between his lips.

“Where the hell am I supposed to sleep and study?” she asks boldly.

“Chanyeol assigned you to an office here, didn't he?” Baekhyun says flatly, as if the answer is obvious.

“You want me to sleep on the couch in his office?”

“If not, then you're staying at my place,” he says calmly. “My house is nearby and I only go there to sleep so you should have no problem living there.”

“I am not living or even sleeping under the same roof as you,” Hwayoung defends.

“I thought I made it clear that you are to listen to me,” Baekhyun says sternly.

“I am not living with you,” Hwayoung insists.

She sees the frustration crawling over the male’s handsome features, his eyebrows furrowing and teeth clenching. Being a fearsome leader and being quite stubborn himself, it gets on his nerves when others don't listen to him.

“There's always that apartment complex down the street,” Chanyeol chirps before Baekhyun can explode in anger. The male is leaning against the door once more, finding more amusement than worry in their bickering.

“The one where Jongdae lives?” Baekhyun asks.

“Yeah,” the tall male answers. “It's only like five buildings away from here. And Jongdae’s there, so she won't be totally alone.”

“Can you settle things with the apartment manager?” Baekhyun asks.

A wicked grin crawls along the contours of Chanyeol’s face. “We’ve had an encounter with the guys who own the place, I’m sure persuading them into getting us a room for her will be easy.”

Hwayoung feels a menacing chill crawl down her spine at Chanyeol's smile, and images of a knife being held to the throat of the owner of the apartment complex slither into her thoughts.

“While that's sorted out, you’ll be staying here,” Baekhyun says, not even sparing a glance at Hwayoung. “Once you move into the apartment, you are to report here every day after class and go to the apartment only at night.”

Hwayoung doesn't say anything, she simply lets her eyes travel somewhere else.

She knows the male won't be persuaded any further.

Baekhyun tosses the burn stub in his mouth and roughly yanks open a drawer, fingers rummaging through papers and empty cigarette boxes.

“Chanyeol, I’m out of cigarettes,” Baekhyun grumbles.

Chanyeol slaps a hand into Hwayoung’s back.

“First task, princess,” he chimes, a toothy grin replacing his murderous smile. “Get the boss some cigarettes.”

Baekhyun throws a few bills on the table.

“There's a convenience store just a few minutes away,” Baekhyun drones. “Get the most expensive ones and don't think about running away.”

Hwayoung takes the bills and leaves, but Baekhyun notices Chanyeol lingering by the door.

“So, you and the daughter to the president Oh Corporations, huh?” Chanyeol purrs, wiggling his eyebrows.

“It's nothing like that,” Baekhyun grumbles.

“I see the hearts coming out of your eyes, you might as well get together,” Chanyeol jokes.

“Get the out,” Baekhyun shouts, and Chanyeol darts out the door before Baekhyun can throw his stapler at him.

Baekhyun’s mind is thrown into worry.

He has to protect her.

But he has to be cold to her.

Yet he has to gain her trust within it all.

~~

“Is this the last one?” Hwayoung asks, hair hanging in a wet tangle over your forehead slicked with sweat.

The worn couch falls with a loud thud in the cramped apartment, an even louder  thud resonating through the thin walls when Minho collapses onto the couch.

“Thanks for helping me move into my new apartment,” Hwayoung pants. It's after four nights of sleeping on the couch in the office that she has realized how urgently she needs a bed and an actual room.

“No problem,” Minho groans. “I can't believe we just let the movers leave the stuff in the hall. We could have asked them to help us bring the furniture inside the apartment.”

“We would’ve had to pay them more,” Hwayoung answers matter-of-factly. “And I don't exactly have that much money.”

“It was me paying them,” Minho deadpans.

“I already feel guilty for calling you to help, and I would have felt even guiltier having you pay more for me.”

“But I want to help you,” Minho pouts. “Hwayoung, don't feel that you have to do everything alone. It's good to be independent, but you shouldn't live your life alone.”

Minho has always tried getting Hwayoung to depend on him, one way or another.

She had heard the eagerness in his voice when she reluctantly called him last night, her voice a mere murmur as she told him about the situation. It had taken nearly ten minutes for her to persuade him out of preparing the guest room at his mansion for her. It had simply ended with Minho hiring movers to bring some old furniture his parents had been planning to throw out to her shabby apartment.

“Hwayoung, my parents adore you, you know they would let you stay with us,” Minho pleads. “Your father is gone, and I don't want you going through any of this alone.”

It's even before Hwayoung can let out a word that the door is slammed open, a large voice booming, “You left the door unlocked!”

The two friends turn to the door, where Chanyeol stands, eyes darting from one wall of the apartment to another. Hwayoung sees the baffled expression on Minho’s face, and it's only then that she realizes her friend has no idea that the man at the door is a member of the mafia. And if he ever finds out, she knows he’ll be dragging her out the door.

“You should probably head back now since we’re done unloading and setting up everything,” Hwayoung speaks, each word so rapid that Minho hardly understands as she pushes him towards the door.

“Who is he?” Minho asks.

“Extended family,” Hwayoung mumbles, before pushing Chanyeol out of the way and seeing Minho out the door.

“Extended family?” Chanyeol sniggers. “Are we cousins now?”