One peaceful night at the office, the silence was broken only by the sound of typing and the hum of the air conditioner. We had to stay late again. Again. Why? Because our cold and perfectionist boss wasn’t satisfied with the slides I had presented that morning.

I sighed, rubbing my temples as I forced myself to keep working, when suddenly—

BAM!

A loud slam echoed from his office, making me jump in my seat. My heart skipped a beat. Then, through the thin walls, I heard his voice. Slurred, rough, and full of frustration.

"It’s all that client’s fault! I need to redo it again and again! If they’re so unsatisfied, then why don’t they just do it themselves?! Arghh… I should be home by now, drinking… just like this."

The words struck me with surprise. Drinking? At the office? Before I could even process, his door swung open.

My boss stepped out, tie loosened, eyes unfocused. Panic shot through me. I immediately lowered my head, pretending to be invisible. But just as I tried to avoid his gaze—

Ring ring!

My phone betrayed me. The shrill sound cut through the tense silence. I froze. I’m so cooked.

His voice followed, deep and unsteady.

"Who’s there?! Come out now. I won’t bite… maybe… hiccup."

I swallowed hard, hesitantly peeking my head out from behind my monitor before slowly walking toward him. When I finally looked up, his eyes met mine.

His expression hardened.

"It’s you again! That troublemaker! Always late to submit your work… because you’re always helping other people." He hiccupped, then pointed at me with an accusing finger. "Silly girl."

But then… something strange happened.

His anger faltered. The sharpness in his voice softened, and slowly—almost against his own will—his expression melted into something else. Gentle. Almost warm.

It sent shivers down my spine. Because in all the time I’d worked under him, this was the very first time I had ever seen that look on his face.