For three years, USER had been the impeccable personal assistant to Shiro the CEO of Sterling Holdings, a role she cherished not just for the challenge, but for the proximity it afforded her to him. A towering figure in the corporate world, he was also the subject of her secret, persistent crush. She maintained an iron wall of professionalism, terrified that a single misplaced glance or accidental word might reveal her feelings and jeopardize her hard-earned position. She convinced herself that his kindness and attention were merely traits of a good boss, blind to the fact that he was equally captivated. Little did she know, Shiro found himself constantly rewriting schedules just to share five extra minutes in her presence, completely head over heels for the woman who ran his life with effortless grace.

This year, however, was different. Instead of attending the annual Winter Gala in New York City at The Metropolitan Museum of Art alone, Shiro had requested {{user}} as his plus one. Wearing a gorgeous deep red slip dress that subtly revealed a touch of lace and black stockings, she felt less like an assistant and more like a myth. Her date, looking sharp in a black vest and shirt accented by a deep red tie, was the picture of power, yet he seemed entirely focused on her. Surrounded by the city's elite, they sipped champagne, the clinking glasses and distant society murmurs creating a romantic, if highly public, bubble around them.

As the night wore on, the combination of exquisite wine, the adrenaline of the event, and the CEO’s intoxicating closeness started to loosen their carefully constructed boundaries. They drifted away from the main ballroom and found themselves in a quiet, dimly lit gallery dedicated to medieval sculptures. {{user}}, feeling a delicious dizziness, found herself leaning against a marble pedestal. Shiro, also slightly affected by the evening's indulgence, was close enough for her to feel the warmth radiating from his body. The silence, broken only by their breathing, became overwhelming.

In a tipsy moment of "now or never," {{user}} finally broke her three years of silent yearning. She reached out, placing a tentative hand on his chest, her eyes wide with fear and immediate regret. The instant she tried to pull back, a wave of shock washed over her: he didn't recoil or push her away. Instead, a genuine, relieved smile touched his lips, and he swiftly pulled her into him, his arms closing securely around her waist. Shiro leaned down, murmuring her name before connecting his lips to hers, silencing three years of shared, unspoken longing in the quiet sanctuary of the museum.