On My Command •||• Seventeen AU

✪~~~✷6th✷~~~✪

Author's POV: ☆

You woke up with a pounding headache, a dull throb reminding you of last night's events. Disoriented, you glanced around, finding yourself in an unfamiliar hotel room that screamed luxury. The sheets beneath you were crisp, the air smelled faintly of fresh linen, and the decor was a tasteful mix of modern and classic elegance. This was no ordinary hotel.

Instinctively, your hands drifted to your body, checking if you still had your clothes on. Relief washed over you as you realized you were still in the same dress from the night before. But the relief was short-lived when your gaze caught a note on the bedside table. You walked over, picking it up with trembling fingers.

The note was written in simple, bold handwriting: "我们什么也没做" - "We did nothing."

The memory of a man from last night flashed through your mind. "Oh, right... that Chinese guy..." you muttered to yourself, rubbing your temples. Everything from the night before was hazy, but you forced yourself to recall what little you could.

---

You had already downed a few shots of whiskey, the alcohol blurring the edges of reality. Suddenly, a man approached you, his presence commanding the attention of everyone in the room. He was dressed in a sleek, jet-black suit that fit him like a glove, accentuating his tall, lean frame. The subtle sheen of the fabric caught the dim light, highlighting the sharp lines of his suit. His crisp white shirt was slightly unbuttoned at the collar, revealing a sliver of his collarbone, adding an air of effortless charm. His burgundy tie and silver tie pin provided a splash of color and elegance that only enhanced his appeal.

His hair was slightly tousled but styled to perfection, framing a sharp jawline softened by his enigmatic smile. The way he moved, with quiet confidence and a subtle, knowing smile, made it clear that he wasn't just wearing the suit-the suit was wearing him.

He bent down to pick something up from the floor, and when he handed it to you, you blinked a few times to see if he was real. It was your wallet that he was handing to you. You must've dropped it earlier, and you hadn't even noticed. It had your ID in it, so there was no doubt it was yours.

"他妈的," (damn it) you cursed under your breath, realizing how close you'd come to losing it. You immediately thanked the man, who looked at you with a mix of surprise and amusement.

"No worries. And you speak Mandarin?" he asked, his interest piqued.

"Ah, yes, a little," you replied, earning a chuckle from him.

"我没想到你是中国人," (I wouldn't have guessed you were Chinese) he said, catching your attention.

"You're Chinese too?" you asked, now intrigued by the man before you.

"猜测是显而易见的，是吗？" (Isn't it obvious?) he replied with a smirk.

His words made you smile, but the alcohol was starting to cloud your judgment. The conversation flowed easily, but with each word, you felt yourself slipping deeper into a drunken haze. You reached out, grabbing his wrist to pull him closer, hoping to hear him better over the pounding music.

But instead of just leaning in, he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you against him. You weren't trying to initiate anything intimate, but he seemed to have misunderstood your intentions.

"你在干什么？" (What are you doing?) you asked, confused by his sudden closeness.

"只是......凭直觉行事。对不起，我让你不舒服了吗？" (Just...acting on instinct. Sorry, did I make you uncomfortable?) he replied, his voice hesitant.