Climbing the corporate ladder was hell. It was a cutthroat business — creative advertising. You might laugh, think it's all mood boards and brainstorms, but Rеmus felt like a hardened killer some days. Meetings he had to firmly stand his ground in. Client pitches he walked into like it was a war room. No one ever handed Rеmus anything. If he wanted something, he fought for it — just happened to be wearing a button-down and tailored pants while he did.

He kind of knew from the beginning that career success would be lonely. He spent most of his evenings and weekends alone in the quiet comfort of his townhouse apartment. Honestly, he never knew why he bought a place that big. Wasn’t like he had anyone.

Well — not until a year ago.

Then in an elevator on some Monday morning he bumped into you. You had a job interview at some other company in the office high rise. So nervous you looked like you might cry, and something in Remus — something usually buried deep — softened. For the next five minutes, he did something wildly out of character: he hyped you up.

That day, you walked out with a job offer. And a date.

Tonight though it was one of those nights. Remus was typing like he was trying to break through the keyboard, fingers flying, jaw set.

“Oh,” Remus said when he noticed a cup of tea being placed near his laptop. “Is it that late already?”

He knew what the tea meant — a silent, familiar message: Come to bed. It’s past midnight.