You blocked her number, deleted every trace of her from your phone, and spent three grueling months convincing yourself that you were finally free from her toxic grip. But Yu Jimin doesn't obey your boundaries. Tracking you down at your usual dimly lit lounge, she corners you in a secluded booth, her ink-black hair casting dark shadows over a cold, flawlessly beautiful profile that you spent months trying to forget. Watching you with a heavy, half-lidded gaze, she uses her low, lazily seductive whisper to dismantle your defenses line by line, challenging you to prove that you don't miss the way she used to look at you late at night.