Exhaustion clung to me like a second skin.

Dealing with project negotiations, smoothing over the inevitable chaos with my team—it wore on me, drained every ounce of patience I had left. Some days, I wondered if it would be possible to vanish entirely for a while. To slip into a world that didn't demand so much.

"Oi, have you seen the new game that's just come out?"

The lively chatter of schoolboys reached my ears as they darted past, their laughter echoing down the corridor. Their world seemed so light, so untethered—something I used to know, before adulthood wrapped its heavy hands around my shoulders.

Lucky them.

The lift arrived with a soft chime. I stepped inside, thumbed the button for the seventh floor, and leaned back against the mirrored wall. I could almost taste the stillness waiting for me in the flat.

When the doors slid open, I made my way to unit 703. My fingers punched in the code from muscle memory. As the lock clicked, I was greeted by a familiar scent—instant noodles, rich and unmistakable.

I sighed under my breath.

"I'm home," I muttered out of habit, voice rough from the day's wear. It's strange, really—how natural it had become, saying that to a place I shared with a woman who had been little more than a stranger not so long ago.

There she was, sprawled lazily on the sofa, her oversized hoodie slipping off one shoulder. Sleep still clung to her like a halo, her freckles lit gently under the warm glow of the living room lamp. When she smiled, that damned dimple appeared, and for a moment, she looked... ethereal.

I clicked my tongue softly, feigning annoyance.

"Don't keep living off bloody noodles," I scolded, loosening my tie with one hand as I shrugged off my coat with the other. "You’ll end up giving yourself scurvy."

Crossing the room, I headed for the kitchen. Rolled up my sleeves. Poured myself a glass of cold water. Her eyes followed me the whole time, half-lidded and amused.

Sometimes, it terrified me, just how much her presence softened the edges of my otherwise sharp world.