Tuesday blurred into Wednesday, and the office felt different.
Not colder. Not warmer. Just… charged.
Like the air before lightning.
Dae-Hyun wasn't outright ignoring me, but he wasn't glaring either. He gave orders quietly, handed me coffee without a word, let his fingers brush mine a second longer than necessary.
Small things.
Dangerous things.
The flowers from Min-Ho stayed on my desk—rearranged daily by me, never thrown out.
He noticed.
Never commented.
But his jaw tightened every time he passed them.
Good.
Petty? Maybe.
Deserved? Absolutely.
Wednesday 6:30 p.m. – The Invitation
Most of the floor had left.
I was packing up, ready for girlie wine night, when his door opened.
"Miss Han."
I looked up.
Dae-Hyun in shirtsleeves, tie loosened, hair a little messy—like he'd been running hands through it.
"Change of plans. We're working late. My place."
I blinked.
"Your… place?"
"Penthouse. Better screens. Quieter. Board presentation due tomorrow."
I stared.
Alone.
At his home.
Late night.
"Uh… can't we do it here?"
"System's down for maintenance. Files are on my home server."
Liar? Maybe.
I couldn't tell.
Thunder rumbled outside—storm rolling in again.
He noticed my glance at the window.
"You can say no."
Challenge in his voice.
I crossed arms. "Fine. But I'm ordering dinner. You don't eat enough."
He almost smiled.
Almost.
"Deal."
8:15 p.m. – The Penthouse
His building: skyscraper in Gangnam, top three floors his.
Elevator opened straight into the apartment.
My jaw dropped.
Floor-to-ceiling windows. Seoul skyline glittering.
Minimalist—black, white, gray, expensive wood.
Huge L-shaped sofa. Massive TV. Kitchen bigger than my entire apartment.
No photos. No clutter.
Lonely rich boy vibes.
He took my coat—gentleman move.
Hung it carefully.
"You live here alone?"
"Yes."
"Big space for one person."
He shrugged. "Habit."
I walked to the window.
Rain starting. City lights blurring.
Beautiful.
Intimidating.
He joined me—close, but not touching.
"Drink?"
"Water's fine."
He poured anyway—red wine for him, water for me.
Handed glass.
Fingers brushed.
Spark.
We both pretended not to notice.
8:45 p.m. – Work Starts (Kind Of)
Huge dining table turned war room.
Laptops. Files. Spreadsheets.
I kicked off heels under table.
He noticed.
Said nothing.
We worked.
Actually worked.
For two hours.
Focused.
Professional.
Until thunder cracked—loud, close.
Lights flickered.
I jumped.
He froze.
Then—slowly—closed laptop.
"You okay?"
I laughed nervously. "Yeah. Just loud."
He stood.
Walked to window.
Rain lashing glass.
Another boom.
He didn't flinch.
But hands clenched.
I stood.
Walked over.
Stood beside him.
Not touching.
Just there.
Like Jeju.
Like overtime.
Like every time.
Minutes passed.
Storm raged.
He exhaled.
"You always do this."
"Do what?"
"Stay."
I shrugged. "Someone has to."
He turned.
Looked down at me.
Close.
Too close.
Wine on his breath.
Warm.
"Why?"
Honest question.
I met his eyes.
"Because you let me."
Silence.
Heavy.
Hot.
He reached.
Slowly.
Thumb brushed my lower lip.
Gentle.
Testing.
I didn't move.
Couldn't.
His voice rough. "Tell me to stop."
I didn't.
He leaned in.
Slow.
Giving me time.
Every second torture.
Then—doorbell.
We jumped apart.
Delivery.
I laughed—shaky.
Saved by jjajangmyeon.
He paid.
Tipped huge.
Closed door.
Looked at me.
"We should eat."
"Yeah."
But neither moved.
10:00 p.m. – Takeout and Truth
Kitchen island.
Black noodles. Tangsuyuk. Fried dumplings.
We ate standing.
Casual.
Almost normal.
He loosened another button.
I pretended not to notice.
Then: "The flowers."
I paused mid-bite.
"Yeah?"
"You kept them."
"You told me to keep one balloon."
He smiled—small.
"I was jealous."
Past tense?
I raised brow. "Was?"
He looked at me.
"Am."
Present.
My heart flipped.
"Why?"
He set chopsticks down.
"You know why."
"Do I?"
He stepped around island.
Close again.
"You're smart."
"Flattery?"
"Truth."
Thunder.
Closer now.
Lights flickered again.
I looked up.
"You're scared of storms."
"I was."
"Was?"
He nodded.
"Now… less."
Because of me?
He didn't say.
But eyes did.
I swallowed.
"This is dangerous."
"I know."
"We work together."
"I know."
"I don't do safe."
He smiled—real.
"Good. I'm not safe."
Then—phone buzzed.
Mine.
Min-Ho.
Sunbae: Hey beautiful. Parents in town this weekend. Want to meet them? Casual dinner. No pressure.
I stared.
Dae-Hyun saw.
Expression darkened.
Instantly.
He stepped back.
Cold returning.
"You should go."
"What?"
"The dinner. With him."
I frowned. "You don't mean that."
He turned.
Walked to window.
Back to me.
"I do."
Liar.
I walked over.
Stood behind him.
Not touching.
"Why push me away?"
Silence.
Thunder.
He spoke quietly.
"Because I can't give you normal."
I stepped closer.
Back almost touching chest.
"I don't want normal."
He turned.
Fast.
We were close.
Breathing same air.
His hand rose.
Cupped my cheek.
Fully this time.
Warm palm.
Thumb stroking.
"You deserve it."
Soft.
Sad.
I covered his hand with mine.
"Maybe I want complicated."
His eyes searched mine.
Looking for lie.
Found none.
He leaned forehead against mine.
Closed eyes.
"We can't."
Voice breaking.
"Why?"
"Because if I start… I won't stop."
Honest.
Raw.
I felt it everywhere.
Thunder cracked—loudest yet.
Lights went out.
Pitch black.
I gasped.
He pulled me close.
Instinct.
Arms around me.
Tight.
Safe.
My face in his chest.
Heart pounding against mine.
His hand in my hair.
Stroking.
"Shh. I've got you."
But who had who?
Minutes.
Or hours.
Power returned.
Lights soft.
We didn't move.
Still holding.
He pulled back slowly.
Looked down.
Eyes dark.
Want.
Fear.
Everything.
"I should take you home."
Voice rough.
I nodded.
But neither moved.
Then—his phone.
Nari texting me screenshot.
Forwarded to him somehow.
Blackmail trail.
IP address.
Executive floor.
Someone high.
His face hardened.
"Tomorrow. We handle this."
I nodded.
He grabbed keys.
Drove me home.
Silence.
Tension.
At my door.
He walked me up.
Stood.
"Lock the door."
"I will."
He hesitated.
Then—leaned.
Kissed forehead.
Soft.
Lingering.
"Goodnight, Hyemi."
Left.
I stood there.
Touching forehead.
Replaying everything.
Almost.
So close.
Next Morning – Office
Cold again.
Professional.
But eyes followed me.
Always.
Flowers still there.
One gold balloon left.
Tied to my chair.
He noticed.
Smiled—secret.
I smiled back.
War over?
No.
Just different battle.
Girlie Debrief – Emergency Brunch
Saturday morning café.
I told everything.
Penthouse.
Storm.
Almost kiss.
Forehead kiss.
They screamed.
"FOREHEAD KISS IS ENDGAME!" "HE'S GONE FOR YOU!" "Min-Ho who??"
Then case update.
Nari: "IP traces to VP Park's office."
Seoyeon: "My new boss?"
Ara: "Or his wife."
Jiwon: "Or both."
Me: "We dig careful."
Plan set.
But my mind?
Still in penthouse.
Still feeling his arms.
Still hearing "if I start… I won't stop."
Dangerous.
Addictive.