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?"
