Touch Therapy: Where Hands Go, Bodies Beg

The boutique hummed with muted activity behind closed doors. From his seat in the lounge, Joon-ho could hear the faint scrape of fabric shears, the whirr of sewing machines, the quick staccato voices of Min-kyung's staff following her sharp instructions. He sipped his tea slowly, half-listening, half lost in thought.

The door swung open a short while later. Min-kyung reappeared, shoulders squared, her expression the polished cool she wore whenever she slipped into work mode. She spotted him instantly. "Still here," she murmured, loosening her arms from their fold as she crossed the lounge. "Did Harin or Yura contact you?"

Joon-ho set down his cup, shaking his head once. "Not yet."

That earned a soft, knowing laugh from Min-kyung. "Figures. If those two get locked into work, they'll forget the clock entirely. Even Harin. Especially Yura." She leaned against the arm of the sofa, tilting her head at him. "They're still going hard, aren't they?"

"They are." He glanced at his phone—blank screen, no new messages. He didn't need confirmation to know Yura's office was still lit upstairs, Harin bent over notes with her.

Min-kyung gave a small sigh, then clapped her hands once decisively. "Fine. Let's go drag them out before they collapse."

They left the boutique together, Min-kyung falling easily into step beside him. She walked with an air that demanded space, her heels striking the pavement with unbothered authority. By the time they entered Lumina's building and reached the top floor, the office corridor was hushed but not silent—paper shuffling, the faint scratch of pens, muted voices still at work.

Sure enough, Yura's office door was ajar, warm light spilling through the crack. Inside, Harin sat at the conference table, posture bent forward, her pen dancing over a sheet of notes. Across from her, Yura was equally absorbed, a laptop glowing before her, her expression sharp and focused. The desk between them was littered with papers, schedules, and annotated proposals. Neither looked up when the door opened.

"Unbelievable," Min-kyung muttered, sliding her hands to her hips. "Do either of you realize what time it is?"

No answer. Harin's pen scratched, Yura's fingers tapped. Joon-ho stepped further in, his voice calm but firm. "It's nine o'clock."

That broke their concentration. Harin blinked first, lifting her head in surprise. Yura glanced at the wall clock, then pressed her lips together. "Already?" she murmured, almost to herself. "I thought it was closer to seven…"

Min-kyung rolled her eyes. "Seven? Please. You two would work until sunrise if no one stopped you." She marched forward and plucked the pen right out of Harin's hand. Harin squawked in protest. "Enough. Dinner. Now."

Yura leaned back, pinching the bridge of her nose. The sharp lines in her face softened just slightly. "Maybe you're right. My head is spinning with numbers."

Joon-ho stepped in and began gathering the scattered papers into a neat stack. "Wrap it up. You can continue tomorrow."

Harin pouted faintly but didn't argue as he closed her notebook. Yura hesitated a moment longer, then sighed and snapped her laptop shut. "Fine. Dinner." She glanced at Joon-ho, her eyes softer now. "You'll join us?"

"I'm the one reminding you to eat," he said simply.

Min-kyung smirked. "Then let's go before she changes her mind."

The restaurant they chose was only a few blocks away, tucked into one of Seoul's trendier backstreets. By the time they arrived, the dinner rush had already faded. Tables were mostly empty, the last lingering customers settling their bills. The atmosphere was quieter, the sizzling of grills and low hum of background music filling the space.

A hostess recognized Min-kyung immediately and bowed them toward a private room. Inside, the square table gleamed with polished wood, a recessed grill in its center already heating. The staff moved briskly, laying out side dishes, bringing trays of marbled cuts of beef, pouring steaming bowls of soup. A bottle of soju appeared alongside chilled glasses.

Joon-ho took the seat closest to the grill, naturally reaching for the tongs. Without waiting for input, he began laying slices of ribeye and brisket across the hot metal. The meat hissed as it touched the surface, fat beginning to pop and sizzle. The smell filled the room instantly—rich, savory, mouthwatering.

Harin sank into her chair with a dramatic sigh, her body almost melting into the cushion as she stretched her arms above her head. "I didn't realize how hungry I was until right now." Her stomach even growled in agreement, making her giggle.

"You were too busy trying to impress Yura unnie," Min-kyung teased, tossing her purse onto the bench beside her as she slid into the seat opposite. She leaned forward with a sly grin, chin in hand. "Honestly, you looked like a little college intern scribbling notes for her professor."

"I was not!" Harin shot back instantly, her cheeks flushing pink as she sat up straighter. "I was helping. There's a difference."

"And doing well," Yura cut in unexpectedly, her calm voice smooth as she adjusted in her chair beside Joon-ho. She rested her hand against the rim of her glass, her nails tapping lightly, almost absently. But her eyes flicked toward Harin, warm in a way that was rare when she was in full CEO mode. "You're sharp. Not many could keep up with me when I'm in that mood."

The praise landed like a soft blow. Harin's lips parted, then quickly pressed together again. She ducked her head, trying to hide the proud little smile tugging at her mouth by reaching for the kimchi side dish and busily scooping some onto her plate. Still, her ears glowed faintly red.

Min-kyung caught it immediately and smirked. "Aha, look at her blush. Don't hide. You should enjoy it—Yura doesn't hand out compliments easily." She reached for the green bottle of soju, twisting the cap off with a practiced flick and pouring into the small glasses lined on the table.

The liquid glimmered under the warm overhead light as Min-kyung filled Yura's glass first, sliding it toward her with a flourish. Then she tipped the bottle toward Harin, filling hers generously before topping up her own. Lifting her glass between two fingers, she gave a little shrug, her grin as mischievous as ever. "Well then—cheers to surviving another day of Lumina chaos."

"Cheers," Harin echoed, raising her glass with both hands, her smile finally breaking free. She tapped the rim lightly against Min-kyung's and then Yura's before knocking back the drink in one smooth gulp, the sharp burn making her shiver and laugh.

Joon-ho flipped the meat, his expression calm as ever. The women drank, the sharp burn of alcohol quickly softened by the food in front of them.

Conversation drifted at first—snippets of the day, small complaints, laughter when Min-kyung mimicked one of her nervous staffers stammering over a dress alteration. But soon enough, Joon-ho set down his tongs, refilled Harin's bowl, and spoke evenly.

"There's something I should tell you."

The shift in his tone was enough. Both women looked at him, Yura in particular setting her glass down.

"I'm going to Jeju," Joon-ho said suddenly, his voice calm but carrying enough weight to still the room.

Harin froze mid-bite, chopsticks hovering halfway to her mouth. "…What?"

"To Mirae." His tone was matter-of-fact as he set his chopsticks down and reached for a crisp lettuce leaf. He laid a slice of grilled meat inside, added a touch of sauce, and rolled it neatly with the same precision he carried into everything. Only then did he continue, unhurried. "She's filming there for a few more days. I spoke to her earlier tonight. She wants to join Fashion Week—but her agency won't make it easy." He looked up, meeting Yura's gaze squarely. "If I speak with her manager directly, it'll be easier to persuade them."

The words landed heavily, like stones dropped into still water.

For a moment, silence stretched between the four of them, broken only by the faint clatter of dishes from the kitchen outside their private room.

Then Min-kyung let out a low whistle, leaning back in her chair. "Straight to Jeju? That's bold, daddy. You don't waste time." Her eyes sparkled with amusement, but there was a flicker of genuine admiration in her tone.

Yura, however, studied him with sharper focus. She tilted her head slightly, fingers curling around the stem of her soju glass. "You already spoke with her?" she asked, her voice even but edged with curiosity.

"She answered right away." Joon-ho finally ate the wrap he'd made, chewing steadily before finishing his thought. "She sounded eager. But hesitant. She'll need backup if she's going to push her agency."

Across the table, Harin lowered her chopsticks slowly, her expression caught between surprise and playfulness. Her lips curved into a teasing smile even as her eyes searched his face. "So eager to run off to see Mirae, hmm? You can't even wait."

Her words carried a lilt, light on the surface, but underneath them was a softer note—something between pride and mischief, as though she was testing how far she could needle him without breaking the calm.

Min-kyung smirked at Harin's jab, raising her glass toward Joon-ho. "She's not wrong. Looks like someone's in a hurry to reunite with his little sweetheart."

Yura didn't smile. She tapped her nail lightly against the side of her glass, eyes narrowing just a fraction as she weighed his intent. "This isn't just about Mirae, is it?"

Joon-ho met her gaze without flinching. "It's about control. If we let her agency dictate, they'll grind her down until she's too tired to stand on that runway. If I go… it changes the balance."

Joon-ho arched a brow at her. "Would you rather I sit here and let her schedule get locked out?"

Harin laughed softly, leaning back. "Fine, fine. But I'm staying here. Yura unnie needs me more. We've got a whole fashion week to prepare, and you—" she wagged her chopsticks at him "—you're not the only one who can work."

Yura's expression softened again, though her eyes gleamed with calculation. "She's right. Harin has instincts—and skills. I've underestimated her. Having her here with me will be an asset."

That made Harin nearly beam. "Really?"

"Really," Yura confirmed, sipping her soju. "You handled yourself well today. Don't think I didn't notice."

Min-kyung smirked into her cup. "Careful, Harin. At this rate, Yura might steal you as her secretary full-time."

"I wouldn't mind," Harin shot back cheekily, before glancing at Joon-ho. "But don't worry. I'll keep my spot as little wife too."

That drew laughter around the table, the tension easing as they continued eating.

Still, the decision lingered between them. Joon-ho would go to Jeju. And Mirae, whether her agency liked it or not, would walk the runway beside him.