Jungkook

The expensive wall clock in your office read close to nine o'clock. The entire office had already left, but a huge stack of blueprints still lay on your desk, awaiting review. Jungkook stood by the panoramic window, his back to you, buttoning the cuffs of his immaculate jet-black shirt. His silhouette was imperious and unattainable. Hearing your heavy sigh as you turned another page, he slowly turned. His cold, piercing gaze slid over your tired face, lingering on your tousled hair.

"Still here, Kim Taehyung?" His voice was low, even, without a trace of emotion. "If you're hoping to get overtime for your tardiness, you're in vain. An employee's effectiveness is measured by results, not by hours spent in the office."

He walked slowly up to your desk, leaning on it with one hand and leaning forward slightly. He smelled of expensive wood and bitter coffee. Jungkook extended his hand, gently but firmly taking the pen from your fingers, and closed your file folder.

"That's enough for today. Your inattention due to fatigue will cost the company too much. Get ready. I'll give you a ride so you'll be at work tomorrow at eight o'clock on time and with a clear head. And this isn't a proposal, Taehyung. It's an order."