Jumin did not tell his girlfriend that his birthday was today.

He did not mention it when he kissed her forehead gently this morning, her eyes pressed shut with a drowsy curtain of sleep. He did not mention it when called her at lunch, and he had no plan of doing so for the rest of the day.

It is deliberate, too. He does not want for MC to know; he does not want for her to prove something by sleuthing it out his employees or the internet. He had even forbidden Assistant Kang of volunteering this information.

He just wants to enjoy a regular, run-of-the-mill day with someone he cared about, and while it seemed like a pedestrian pleasure for someone so fabulously rich and famously particular such as himself, it is also something he is experiencing for the first time in his life and he craves more of it. So much so, that the one day of the year in which is excusable to be spoiled, he trades it all just for the peasant way of celebration. Simply meeting her for her daily walk in the dim purple dusk was enough for him, her hand warm and grounding wrapped around his own, holding onto him tightly all the way down to the little café by her home.

So, he dismisses Driver Kim for the afternoon and venture on in the subway, heading towards the suburbs along with the masses of salaried workers. He had offered her a place to live closer to his own penthouse, even if he dreads his own Christian background and the rules on premarital cohabitation that comes with it, but she insists that she is fine where she is, and would not want to be a kept woman.

Usually, he would insist more readily, but that would upset her and he does not like when it happens. She does not enjoy to be reminded of her socioeconomical background, after all. He reassures himself with the idea that they would be wed before the next year is out anyways, so he can stand to exercise some patience on the matter.

With these thoughts in mind, the man meets MC at her job with delirious ease, delighting on the smile she gives him when they meet.

A couple of blocks later and they reach their first stop. He lets go of her hand as she slips away from him, moving towards the café door eagerly. She turns and smile at him, and his face stays almost exactly the same, except his eyes soften a little, the right corner of his mouth twitching upwards. It was understated, and almost seemed nefarious in its intent, but she recognizes his real smile.

Jumin fiddles with his pullover jacket for a few minutes, adjusting the hem of his crème sleeves as he mentally checks off the assignments that he has yet to complete when they get home. As per agreement, they would be sleeping in her apartment that evening, and he had already instructed his staff to bring an overnight bag and his computer after dinner.

Lost in thought of the foreboding night upon them, he does not get impatient about waiting for such a tiny capriciousness, and it is such a strange realization, one that makes him stop touching his clothing abruptly.

The thought should bother him, worry him, the fact that one person could reverse something so fundamental about his very nature should drive him mad. It should make him concerned that he would be trailing the same path of his father's, repeating the same vice on love and satisfaction that plagued most of their lives, and still does. He scrunches his brow for a moment while he thinks.

It should drive him mad, but it just... Does not. It makes him feel good, it sets him free.

He looks up as the door jingles again, and MC is caught with the lovely sight of her boyfriend in the quickly fading golden sunlight of mid-Autumn.

His eyes look surprised, like she interrupted a deep thought running wild and rampant in his mind, and his hand is curled tightly around his opposite wrist, tugging on well-pressed sleeves. It is a sure sign he was fiddling with his clothes, a tell-tale sign of his nervousness, which he rarely displays. She smiles fondly, almost giddily, as she holds up two coffees, the corner of a brown pastry bag sticking out from between her arm where it is sandwiched.

Jumin steps forward smoothy, almost smugly as his arm snakes down to grab the bag before wrapping around her waist. He pulls she gently forward, his warm hand resting against her lower back comfortably.

MC is always caught off-guard by how big it feels wrapped around her, not truly because her figure is particularly small, but rather because of the potency and self-assured character of his presence.

She tries to squirm away from him teasingly, but he just scoffs, pulling her closer to him so his head is resting above her shoulder. He leans down so his lips brush the crown of her head, warm lips releasing a breath that sends a slow shiver down her spine as he buries his mouth in her hair.

"Hold steady." He breaths gently, yet still commanding, in a low voice that scratches in a ticklish way that warm coffee does in her lower stomach. "Contrary to what you seem to believe, this is not an amusing joke, Kitten."

MC smirks, pulling her head back as she tries to pull off a confident façade as well as he does. "Oh yeah, Han? I'm sorry, let me try again. You know what's funny?"

"What?" He hums.

She successfully turns from his warm arm this time, slipping a hand inside her coat and moving it around until she grasps a yellow envelope signed simply, Jumin.

"That you forgot to mention something today, but I still remembered, which means I win." She teases him, a smirk donning her expression.

She pushes up on her feet, as tall as she can manage, to plant a kiss on his unexpecting lips, which taste slightly bitter. It is like coffee, and also warm, and firm, and alarmingly good, and…

Jumin slides a hand up her neck urgently, tilting his mouth hungrily as he kisses her back fully and with single-minded intent. She starts to rock a little on her toes, head getting dizzy with the intensity of the whole ordeal.

When MC pulls away, he looks all too smug at the way her voice comes out breathless when she pronounces, "Happy birthday, Jumin."