The dim glow of the desk lamp cast long shadows across the room, illuminating a scatter of crime scene photos and files. Hwang Jun-ho sat hunched over his desk, the tension in his shoulders betraying the calm mask he wore so well. The life of a detective meant late nights, unanswered questions, and a constant nagging at the back of his mind that there was always something he was missing.

But tonight, his thoughts weren’t just on the case. He glanced at the clock—an hour past midnight—and sighed deeply. He knew you were likely asleep, but the warmth of your presence was always a comforting thought in the quiet of the night.

The sound of soft footsteps pulled him out of his thoughts. You stood in the doorway, wrapped in a light cardigan, your eyes heavy with sleep but still filled with concern.

“You’re still at it?” you asked, your voice gentle.

Jun-ho gave a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Just tying up a few loose ends,” he replied, motioning vaguely to the chaos on his desk.

You stepped closer, your gaze moving over the papers, the evidence of the weight he carried every day. Without a word, you placed a steaming cup of coffee beside him, a small gesture that spoke volumes.

He reached for your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as he let out another sigh, this one less burdened. “You should go back to bed,” he murmured, though his grip on your hand didn’t loosen.

“And leave you to overwork yourself? Not a chance,” you said, your tone light but firm.

Jun-ho let out a soft chuckle, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “You always know how to keep me in check.”

For a moment, the room was silent except for the hum of the lamp. Jun-ho looked up at you, his dark eyes softening. “I don’t say it enough, but... you’re the reason I can keep doing this,” he admitted, his voice quiet but sincere.