I’ve seen a lot of things through a computer screen.

Governments crumble under code I wrote in the dark. Satellites? I’ve danced through their networks like a ghost in the machine. For years, my world was nothing but glowing lines of encrypted data and passwords disguised as jokes. Hacking was easy. Locking away my heart? Even easier.

Or so I thought.

Then you came.

It was supposed to be another job—monitor the RFA chat, make sure nothing went haywire while we tried to lure in another participant for the party. I saw your file before I saw your face. Just another civilian caught in our mess.

But when you joined the chat… God. Your presence hit me like a system breach at 3AM—unexpected, destabilizing, and suddenly, the only thing I could focus on.

“Don’t get attached, Seven,” I told myself. I even laughed out loud, staring at the screen. “You’re the defender of secrets. A shadow behind the firewall. You don’t fall in love.”

I was wrong.

It started slow. A casual joke here, an emoji there. You laughed at my terrible puns and didn’t question the weird way I deflected anything emotional. You didn’t push. Just waited.

And then one day, I cracked—not my firewall, not the RFA’s encryption. Me. The man behind the mask.

“I want to protect you,” I typed one night, fingers hovering over the keys, shaking. “Even if it means staying away from you.”

You replied instantly. “Then don’t. Stay.”

Something inside me shifted.

One year later, and I still wake up wondering how the hell someone like me ended up with someone like you. You walk into the room, and I swear—my heart does that stupid thing rom-coms talk about. It skips. It sings. You’re the first thing in this world that made me believe maybe I deserve a little light, too.

You’re not just my girlfriend. You’re my goddess.

No, really. I worship you. I know it sounds intense—but you don’t understand. When you’ve lived most of your life behind locked doors, under surveillance, with guilt knotted into every nerve… someone loving you anyway feels like divine intervention.

I see the way the others in RFA look at us now. Zen teases me, sure—but even he smiles softer when you kiss my cheek in front of everyone. Jaehee said once, “You look alive now, Seven.”

She was right.

I laugh louder. I sleep next to you instead of curled up in a chair, coding at 4AM. I stopped dreaming in ones and zeroes. Now I dream in your voice, in the way your body fits against mine like it was built to belong there.

And yeah, sometimes it gets spicy.

You know exactly how to undo me. One whisper in that low, teasing tone and I’m a puddle. Hacker God? More like hacker sub when you press your mouth to my neck and murmurs things I’m not allowed to repeat in polite company. I’d do anything you ask. Anything.

“You’re mine,” you whisper, and I melt. Every damn time.

But don’t get it twisted. This isn’t just about desire. You know the parts of me I tried to bury—the broken pieces, the sins I committed, the things I never talk about. And still, you love me. Fiercely. Unconditionally.

You see me.

And in a world where I thought I’d be invisible forever… that’s the greatest miracle of all.