As they stepped outside, Luca draped an arm around Seo-in's shoulders with that easy, familiar affection of his. Morning sunlight caught faint hints of red in his messy hair—something she'd secretly always found endearing.
"You know," he began as they headed toward the subway station, voice full of trouble, "technically, if we timed it right, we could sneak into a second movie for free after the first one ends."
Seo-in arched a brow, her smirk appearing almost automatically. "Technically, that's called theft."
Luca's laugh rang out loud enough to earn curious glances from a few passersby—but as usual, he didn't care in the slightest.
"Semantics," he declared, pulling her a little closer against his side just because he felt like it.
And despite herself, Seo-in leaned into him, letting the warmth of his body settle around her. For a moment, amidst the noise of busy morning streets, it felt like the world faded into background blur.
Maybe normalcy wasn't so bad after all.
***
When they got off near the city center, Seo-in assumed they were heading to some small, cozy theater—the kind Luca usually preferred because it didn't hurt his wallet. So when the towering glass structure of Cinespace Kino came into view—the most expensive cinema in town—she blinked at him in disbelief.
"…Seriously?" she murmured as they joined the line for tickets. "You do realize this place is, like, really pricey."
Luca only grinned, slinging his arm casually over her shoulders again. "Only the best for you, princess."
She rolled her eyes at the nickname but didn't move away. She'd long accepted that Luca was hopelessly stubborn when he wanted to be—and sometimes, letting him have his way was easier … and, if she admitted it, a little bit nice.
At the ticket counter, she reached for her purse automatically, but Luca waved her off before she could even unzip it.
"This was my idea," he insisted—half-playful, half-defiant—like he was daring her to challenge him. He handed over his card with what he clearly thought was subtle confidence.
But Seo-in caught the tiny, involuntary wince when he saw the price.
And somehow, that small, honest reaction warmed her more than any extravagant gesture ever could.
"Fine," she muttered as they stepped away from the counter, bumping her shoulder lightly against his. "But don't complain about being broke later."
He snorted. "No promises."
After a few steps, she reached for his sleeve—just briefly, just enough for him to feel it. "Next time … let me treat you."
Luca glanced down, grin softening into something gentler. "Keep talking like that and I might start expecting things from you."
She rolled her eyes, but his hand tightened around her arm, gratitude flickering unspoken beneath his teasing.
Then, without warning, he tugged her toward the concession stand with exaggerated determination.
"Alright," he declared loudly to no one in particular, "large popcorn, extra butter—no regrets!"
The cashier blinked at his enthusiasm before ringing it up. Behind him, Seo-in buried her face in her hands.
"Why do I love this disaster of a human being?" she muttered under her breath.
Luca, already grabbing fistfuls of popcorn before they even left the counter, looked back at her with that unrepentant grin. "Because I'm charming," he said around a mouthful—then tossed a single kernel playfully in her direction.
Seo-in dodged it with an exasperated sigh, though her eyes were warm with affection. "Keep telling yourself that."
But she still stole a handful of popcorn from his tub as they walked side by side into the dim theater, their arms brushing lightly.
And halfway through the movie, when Luca's fingers found hers over the shared armrest, intertwining lazily—
she didn't pull away.
Not even for a second.
***
A brief knock sounded, and the office door opened before Hyun-wook could respond. He looked up with a flicker of irritation—one that disappeared the moment he recognized the tall, familiar figure stepping inside.
"There you are," Hyun-wook said, exhaling softly as he gestured toward the chair across from his desk. "I thought you left the building already."
Illian—effortlessly elegant even in a simple suit, all sharp lines and quiet confidence—let out a light, knowing laugh.
"If I had, you'd still be glued to those spreadsheets," he said, nodding toward the monitors glowing with contracts and projections. "Honestly, Hyun-wook, do you ever stop working?"
Hyun-wook leaned back, waving a dismissive hand.
"Work doesn't pause just because you decide to show up late."
The jab was mild, almost playful. Illian took it with a smirk as he settled in, crossing one long leg over the other with casual sophistication.
"Oh, please," he drawled, his Austrian accent threading smoothly through the Korean words. "You enjoy my company more than you admit. At least enough to pretend you're not relieved to see me."
Before Hyun-wook could retort, Kwon quietly stood from the side table, bowing.
"I'll prepare coffee for you both."
She left without another sound.
Once the door clicked shut, Hyun-wook's posture eased—barely, but enough for someone like Illian to notice.
"So," Illian began, resting an elbow on the arm of his chair, "I overheard something interesting downstairs. Something about you being matched with a girl. How far along is that situation?"
Hyun-wook raised an eyebrow, though amusement tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"You really don't know how to mind your own business."
"And you make it far too entertaining not to pry," Illian countered with a lazy shrug. "Come on. Humor me."
Hyun-wook sighed, turning one of the documents facedown, "I haven't even met her yet. She's studying in Germany." He paused before adding, rather dryly, "There's a ninety-nine percent chance she'll agree."
Illian hummed, swirling the whiskey he'd poured himself from the side cabinet.
"A good family, traditional background, far from home…" He smirked. "Ah. So that's why you're so calm about it."
Hyun-wook didn't confirm, but he didn't deny it either.
Illian leaned forward slightly, eyes sharp with curiosity rather than malice.
"She'll be easy to work with, I assume. Someone who won't complicate things. Someone who understands her place."
Hyun-wook shot him a look—one that wasn't disapproving, but contemplative.
Only Illian ever received that kind of honesty from him.
Not warmth. Not cruelty.
Just truth without pretenses.
"That's the expectation," he said simply.
A quiet understanding settled between them—an unspoken familiarity between two men who operated far beyond the surface, who understood the weight of status, responsibility, and quiet concessions that shaped their lives.
Illian lifted his glass in a subtle toast.
"To predictable futures."
Hyun-wook allowed a thin, tired smile.
"To obligations," he corrected softly.
The clink of glass echoed faintly in the quiet room.