He laid there with nothing, just his pulsing heart and the rapid flapping wings trying to escape the cage of a body to soar and explore what existed beyond words or illusions the eyes could see. This was where his soul was stolen and bared.

“The police suspect foul play but Jessica’s body has not been found yet.” He speaks over the phone in a discreet yet authoritative voice. “I need you to investigate more about the case, and if she’s still alive, I want her whereabouts.”

She likes the familiarity in his placid voice; it makes her feel strangely warm.

“Make sure to keep it under wraps.”

Myungsoo is not an easy person to satisfy; Myungsoo is too precise and painstakingly particular. He pays such meticulous attention to details, that sometimes, it gets too much for people around him and they describe him as a psychotic director that dwells too much on such trivialities or a ruthless brother who seizes his brother’s rightful shares in the company.

But not her, she will never say that about him. Because to her, that’s okay. It’s just how he is, how he wants to be. She gets it, and she is aware how unorganized schedules, disorderly arranged files, a misaligned furniture, inaccurate clock that goes too fast or too slow, an outfit with unmatching colours or just anything that feels out of place would bother him excessively.

She appreciates him.

Because in Joohyun’s small world, Myungsoo is the epitome of perfection. And she promises to always be there to fix every flaws for him, even if it means she has to break herself into bits and pieces in order to complete him.

“Got it,” she replies without questioning further, and when the call ends, she wishes they have talked more, perhaps just anything other than work.

“Myungsoo,” her voice trails off, tears b in her eyes, and in an even softer voice, slightly quivering, she says to no one. “Congratulations.”

After stepping out of the hot shower, he looks at his reflection in the mirror and his reflection stares right back at him—hair slicked back, outfit impeccable, and face carefully impassive but not cold, not disinterested—the immaculate picture of Kim Myungsoo.

He is a sheer perfectionist; there’s no room to err, no weaknesses, no compromises.

Yoona’s flawless smile is as bright as the sun when she greets him, while he noiselessly watches her at the breakfast table, all dressed up in a white dainty dress that lands perfectly right above her knees. He takes in the aroma of the freshly-brewed coffee and his slightly toasted French bread, just the way he likes his breakfast, before he smiles back at her.

“Good morning, love.” 

“Is everything alright at the corporate?”

He nods and furrows his eyebrows, “It’s just the same old management issues.”

“Change of directions is always hard,” Yoona places her own hand above his to assure him encouragingly, “You are capable and I believe that you will eventually do well, but just don’t push yourself too hard.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t.” Myungsoo replies.

Yoona continues to talk about this new book that she’s fascinated about but Myungsoo is not really paying attention. He’s thinking about something else, his eyes fixed on the screen of his vibrating phone.

“Before I forget, what shall we have for dinner?”

“I will be home late tonight. Don’t wait up for me.” He says as he stands up to leave the table. He doesn’t tell her why he can’t make it to dinner because there is no need for an explanation between them. Not because he’s planning to keep anything from her.

“Oh.” There’s a pause. “I will have dinner outside then.”

And Myungsoo closes the door behind him.