Minho's POV
Morning came far too soon.
He barely remembered when he'd fallen asleep, only the sound of Chan's voice replaying in his head like a ghost that wouldn't fade.
Now, standing in front of the mirror, Minho looked at himself and saw someone he barely recognized:
Eyes rimmed red. Skin pale. His wolf restless under the surface.
He'd taken twice as long to get dressed, trying to pick a shirt that didn't cling too much, didn't make him smell like he hadn't slept because of an Alpha.
And still the faint trace of Chan's scent lingered on him, maddening and warm, like smoke that refused to clear.
"Get it together," he muttered, slapping both cheeks lightly. "You're fine. You're fine."
Except he wasn't.
---
At Mixtape Corporation, the building hummed with its usual energy, employees darting between offices, meetings in full swing, music spilling faintly from production rooms.
Minho moved through it all like a shadow, clutching his tablet as if it were armor.
He'd gone over the new project proposal three times, avoiding one floor entirely.
His floor.
The CEO's floor.
Chan's.
But fate or maybe the Goddess herself seemed to have other plans.
"Lee Minho?"
He froze.
The receptionist smiled politely. "Mr. Bang asked if you could deliver the quarterly files to his office."
Of course he did.
---
Chan's POV
Chan was already waiting when Minho knocked.
He'd spent the entire morning pretending to work, reviewing contracts he couldn't remember reading, and fielding questions from Hyunjin and Changbin that he barely answered.
All he could think about was that look, the moment Minho whispered, "Don't go".
The sound had branded itself into his mind.
"Come in," he said evenly when Minho entered.
The door clicked shut behind him.
Minho stepped inside, chin lifted in professional calm, even though Chan could hear the hitch in his breathing. The bond between them pulsed again, that invisible string snapping taut.
He wanted to speak, to say something simple, like good morning.
But what came out was:
"You didn't sleep."
Minho's jaw tightened. "Neither did you, apparently."
Chan's lips twitched, not in amusement but in something darker. "We could fix that."
Minho blinked. "Excuse me?"
"You know what I mean," Chan said, voice low. "You're exhausted because you're fighting something that doesn't want to be fought."
Minho's grip on the files faltered slightly.
"Mr. Bang," he said through gritted teeth, "I came here for work."
Chan smiled faintly. "Then let's work, Minho."
He turned toward his desk but the air between them stayed thick, heavy with tension neither could ignore.
---
Downstairs, Hyunjin leaned over the coffee bar where Jisung was doodling in a notebook.
"Have you noticed something's… off lately?" Hyunjin asked quietly.
Jisung raised an eyebrow. "Between who?"
"Chan-hyung and Minho-hyung."
"Oh," Jisung said with a grin. "You mean the 'pretend we're totally not soulmates but the building smells like sparks whenever they're in the same room' situation?"
Hyunjin snorted. "Exactly that."
Meanwhile, across the hall, Changbin was trying to explain a project plan to Seungmin, who looked completely unimpressed.
"Focus, Bin."
"I am focused."
"On what, exactly?"
Changbin smirked. "On not being like Chan-hyung, that's for sure."
Seungmin sighed. "You say that, but you'll probably end up just as bad."
And in the corner café, Felix and Jeongin sat quietly, sipping lattes and watching the rain.
Felix stirred his cup absently. "You can feel it, can't you?"
Jeongin nodded. "Yeah. Their bond's getting stronger. It's… loud."
Felix smiled softly. "That means it's close."
---
Chan & Minho POV
The silence stretched on too long.
Minho set the files on the desk. "If there's nothing else, I'll go."
Chan's eyes flicked up to meet his. "There's something else."
Minho hesitated. "What?"
Chan stood slow, measured and crossed the space between them until he was close enough for Minho to feel his heat.
"The next time you call me Mr. Bang," Chan murmured, "I'll take it as a challenge, not a boundary."
Minho's breath hitched. "You... you can't just—"
"I can't?" Chan leaned closer, his voice a whisper. "Then tell me to stop."
Minho opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
Their bond flared - bright, wild, undeniable. The scent of Alpha and Omega filled the room like electricity before a storm.
Chan stepped back before it consumed them both, his eyes burning. "You should go before I forget I'm supposed to be patient."
Minho didn't move. Couldn't. His pulse thundered in his ears.
Finally, he forced himself to speak. "You're infuriating."
Chan's mouth curved. "You say that like you don't love it."
Minho turned on his heel and left, the slam of the door echoing through the floor.
Chan stood there for a long moment, chest heaving, before whispering to the empty room:
"I'm not letting you go, Minho."