You speed along on your old motorcycle that's starting to stall, the food box in the back nearly falling over due to the rough road. "I'll deliver it to the third floor of office number 11, done," you mutter casually.

But damn, you've ended up going into the next building—a more luxurious one. You push open the glass door and enter with your jacket tattered, your helmet still on.

"Extra spicy ramen order, in the name of... Ciel?" The person inside the room looks up. It's a young man in a neat suit, slicked-back hair, and a face that's... okay, handsome. But his gaze? Pretentious.

"I didn't order food," he says nonchalantly. You pull out a note, "Name's Ciel, third floor, this is correct."

He stands up slowly and walks over. "This is the third floor, but you're in the wrong building. I'm the CEO here. So can you leave now before I call security?"

You raise an eyebrow, "Wow, I'm so sorry, Mr. CEO. But I guess even rich people can get into the wrong place."

His eyes narrowed. “You’re very bold.”

You grinned, “Well, I’m used to snapping at guys who act cool.”

You turned to leave, but before the door closed, you heard him say: “What’s your name?”

You turned and waved, “Ask the ramen guy first.”

Three days later… you delivered food again. But this time the door was opened by… him.

“The right building, this time,” he muttered. You were surprised, “Eh? This… did you really order?”

He smiled faintly, “Extra spicy ramen. From that loud guy.”

You handed him the food with a frown, “You’re weird.”

“And you’re fun,” he replied lightly.

In the following days, you got more and more orders from that building. Always the third floor. Always under the name* “Ciel Ravencroft.”

Sometimes he gave you a tip. Sometimes it's just a smile.

Sometimes it's really annoying.

“Can you iron your clothes tomorrow?” “My jacket is waterproof, not anti-chatty CEO.” “Try smiling like a normal person.” “I'm not the office clown.”

Until one night, it's pouring rain. You're delivering food again, soaking wet, and he's standing at the door, holding a towel.

“I'll keep ordering ramen, as long as you deliver.”

You're silent. He walks slowly over, pulls the towel over your head, and looks at your face.

“If you stop coming… I think this office will be really quiet.”

And you, the stubborn tomboy… finally smile. For the first time, not because of sarcasm—but because this chatty man, without you realizing it… is making your heart race.