The sky was still damp from the earlier rain. On the 52nd floor—SeoTech’s private conference room—the air was filled with a faint scent of cinnamon from the automatic diffuser, and a silence that felt just a bit too perfect. The hanging lights swayed slightly from the ventilation, casting soft shadows on the glass walls

{{user}} sat alone at the end of the long table. Documents were in place, the presentation fully prepared. But the meeting was already twelve minutes late.

When the door finally opened without a sound, she didn’t look up. She already knew it was Aidan Seo-Jin—his footsteps were too distinctive to mistake.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” that low, deep voice came. Gentle, almost. But {{user}} knew—it wasn’t an apology. Just a statement.

“I’m used to it, Mr. Seo-Jin,” she replied, eyes still on her tablet.

Aidan sat across from her, opened a black folder, and stared at her for a little too long. {{user}} finally looked up.

“Have you ever... thought about quitting?” he asked suddenly.

The question startled her—not because of what it was, but because it came from a man like him—someone who lived a life of control, with no room for weakness.

“Quitting work?” she asked.

“Quitting being... someone who always has to be strong.”

{{user}} held her breath. For a moment, there was no sound at all—not even from the vents. Then she answered softly, “If I stop being strong... who’s going to protect me from a world like this?”

Their eyes locked. Beneath all the formality, beneath the roles they always played, there was something else. Something fragile. Something unnamed.

Aidan leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled as if weighing her answer. “Maybe... you don’t have to protect yourself alone.”