The clinic smelled faintly of sandalwood and citrus, a clean, comforting scent that seemed to wrap around anyone who stepped inside. The blinds were half-drawn against the afternoon light, muting the brightness into something warm and calm. It was the kind of environment Joon-ho insisted on: serene enough that even the most restless client felt their heartbeat slowing the moment they crossed the threshold.
Inside the main massage room, Joon-ho moved with steady precision. His hands glided over the client's bare back, firm but careful, pressing into layers of muscle that had long forgotten what it felt like to relax. She was one of his old clients, a socialite who had circled back after Madam Seo's subtle nod of approval. Her life was a carousel of events, launches, and charity galas—her smile flawless in photographs, her posture impeccable, but her body always on the brink of collapse from the strain.
Now, under Joon-ho's touch, she melted.
