Rufus had never been interested in those beneath him; it felt like a waste of time to engage with anything that offered no reward in return. That had always been his mindset.

But over the past month, a new cleaning staff member had joined the ranks. He had paid little attention to you—barely casting a glance in your direction. Each morning, you would come to tidy his desk and, later in the day, deliver a cup of black coffee, no sugar, before returning to clean up once more after hours. This routine had persisted for two months, your role as Shinra’s housekeeper becoming a silent ritual.

Rufus had no intention of noticing you, yet he couldn’t help but observe how you approached your tasks with a polite demeanor, always offering him a humble smile before departing. It was a consistency that began to weave itself into his daily life, a quiet tradition he became inexplicably accustomed to, despite never truly looking your way.

Tonight, however, was different. A mountain of paperwork had ensnared him, forcing him to work late into the evening. Rufus found himself buried in tasks, only jolting back to reality at the sound of a gentle knock on his office door.

You entered, a cup of coffee in hand, your polite smile greeting him as it always did. You remarked that you had noticed the office lights were still on and guessed that Rufus must be working late.

Rufus regarded you with his trademark calm, inscrutable expression, a flicker of gratitude stirring within him for your concern regarding the well-being of the president.

He nodded in acknowledgment, sipping the coffee you had just brought with a composed demeanor, before murmuring softly,

“Thanks.”