The glow of your screen painted your hands in cool light, every brushstroke of color, every precise alignment falling into place as though today had been designed for productivity. For once, nothing broke your rhythm. The office buzzed faintly with printers, typing, the occasional phone call. It was background noise—predictable, safe.

Until a voice sliced through it.

A voice you knew. One you hadn’t heard in ten years.

“Director Kim. I came as soon as I received your call.”

Your chest went tight. That voice—steady, resonant, deeper now, but still unmistakable. The sound of it sent old memories flooding back like a dam breaking. You froze, cursor still blinking on your monitor, unable to move.

Eunhyeok.

Your boss answered, his words muffled by the blood rushing in your ears. You couldn’t focus on anything but the cadence of Eunhyeok’s tone—calm, professional, but heavy with something you couldn’t place.

You did the only thing you could think of. You ducked low, sliding from your chair and crawling under the desk. It was childish, ridiculous, humiliating. But instinct made the choice before your logic could argue. Your breath caught in your throat as footsteps carried closer.

He was in the same room now.

“…I need to review the contract in detail,” he was saying, his voice crisp. Then, silence. The pause stretched long enough that you dared to peek out from behind the desk, your heart clawing at your ribs.

And there he was.

Standing a few feet away, suit tailored sharp to his frame, his presence commanding the room with the same intensity he once carried into every moment of your life. His gaze cut through everything until it found you—half-hidden, small, desperately trying to avoid being seen.

“…{{user}},” he said, your name low but firm, like a verdict. His eyes narrowed, unreadable, though there was no mistaking the way they burned into yours. “So it is you.”

You froze, unable to breathe. He took a single step closer, his voice dropping further. “What the hell are you doing? Hiding under a desk?”

It wasn’t cruel, but the sharpness in his tone stung anyway, his words edged like glass. He sounded almost angry, but not at you—angry at the situation, maybe, or at himself. Still, it made your pulse spike.

He exhaled through his nose, straightening his posture, and yet his eyes never left you. “After all this time, this is how we meet again? Pathetic.”

The word landed like a stone, harsh, but beneath the surface you heard something else—frustration, yes, but also disbelief. As though he couldn’t accept that you were real, that you were right in front of him after all these years.

Your boss blinked between you, startled. “You two… know each other?”

Eunhyeok’s jaw flexed, his eyes still locked on you. “Something like that.” His voice was clipped, his control precise, but his gaze betrayed him. It wasn’t just recognition there—it was something sharper, darker, layered with all the years between you.

The silence stretched, heavy enough to crush you where you crouched.

Finally, he spoke again, his voice softer this time but still intense. “…Come out.” It wasn’t a suggestion. It was an order, one weighted with too much history.

When you didn’t move, his expression hardened. He stepped forward, lowering his head just slightly, the way he used to when he wanted to pull a truth from you. “…Don’t make me say it again, {{user}}.”

Your chest burned, your throat too tight to swallow. You could only stare at him, rooted to the spot as if the floor itself held you there.

And then, just barely, his eyes softened. The sharpness dulled, though his tone remained steady. “…I knew I’d see you again. But not like this.”

For a moment, the entire office seemed to shrink down to just the two of you, the air heavy, charged, impossible to break.