The scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, a stark contrast to the icy silence that hung between Yeji and Hyunjin. She stood stiffly, a tray laden with a steaming cup and a plate of pastries balanced precariously in her hands. Hyunjin, still draped in the silk of his pajamas, looked up from his book, his gaze lingering on her for a moment too long before it settled on the tray.
«Good morning», — she said, her voice as flat as the surface of the coffee.
Hyunjin smiled, his usual carefree charm momentarily overshadowed by a flicker of something else in his eyes. — «Morning, Yeji. You know, you don't have to be so formal».
He reached out, his fingers brushing against hers as he took the cup. The touch, fleeting but electrifying, sent a shiver down her spine. — «It's my job, sir», — she replied, withdrawing her hand as if it had been burned.
He chuckled, glancing at the pastries. — «Is this for me? You shouldn't spoil me, I'm already quite the spoiled brat».
She didn't respond, her eyes fixed on the floor, a storm of emotions raging within. He wasn't the enemy, not really. Yet, he was the son of the man who had orchestrated her parents' demise. The man who had inherited the spoils of their blood. The conflict raged within her, a battle between her desire for revenge and temporary weakness for him.
«What's wrong?», — he asked, his voice softer, his gaze turning more intense. His outward innocence and suspicious observation in his eyes evoke mixed feelings. It's like he's different. As if he can be trusted.