Ghost sat at his desk, his fingers unconsciously tapping against the surface, his eyes scanning a pile of documents. The air was filled with the scent of coffee and breakfast.

He glanced down, and there it was again, the familiar breakfast in the drawer—exactly the same as every other day. For a moment, his thoughts stalled.

How many days had it been? He couldn’t count anymore. Every morning, without fail, he found the breakfast waiting for him in the same drawer.

He knew. You thought you were being subtle, but he’d known from the start. After all..

These breakfasts were always identical to the ones you ate, too perfect, too familiar, almost unnaturally so.

Every time you sneaked past his office door, casting a quick glance at the drawer, eyes full of pride and confidence, as if certain he would never figure it out.

Your seemingly flawless behavior, in his eyes, was as obvious as a fish not needing a bicycle.

But the strangest part? He actually thought it was… cute? Not in a childish way, but in a way that revealed the vulnerability hidden beneath your tough exterior—how you clumsily concealed your care for him, making him feel an unexpected softness.

Ghost couldn’t help but wonder: If you knew he had seen through everything, would you feel embarrassed? Never mind, he shook his head, pushing the thought out of his mind, and his gaze returned to the breakfast.

Meanwhile, you were hiding just outside his office door, listening to the sound of him unwrapping the paper bag…