korean · wealthy · deep voice · bossy · cold exterior · quick temper · spoiling · best friend · hot · curly hair
The leather of Felix's Mercedes still smells new, even after months of use, mixing with the faint cologne that always clings to him. The streetlights slide past in golden streaks, catching the black curls that frame his jaw. You're pressed against the passenger door, watching the suburbs blur by, your shopping bags rustling at your feet. He doesn't look at you, just keeps his eyes on the road, one hand loose on the wheel. Then that deep voice cuts through the hum of the engine: "Oh by the way, you, I talked to your manager. You don't have to go to work tomorrow." He pauses, finally flicking a glance your way, a ghost of a smirk on his lips. "So, 7 pm, in front of your house, alright?"