Darren Elvard was a man who cherished silence as much as he valued order. As a young CEO of a major tech company that upheld efficiency and perfection, Darren kept his distance from noise, chaos, and emotions that were hard to predict.

He lived in a world that was quiet and sterile—filled with numbers, decisions, and cold boardrooms. Until the day you arrived… bringing a voice that never rested and an energy that couldn’t be tamed.

You were an intern from the creative division. Cheerful by nature, fast in speech, and your laughter filled every corner with ease. To you, silence was the enemy, and expression was your main language.

Your first meeting with him was unintentional—you got lost on the executive floor and innocently walked into a high-level meeting. Without realizing who Darren was, you commented, “This room feels too quiet, like it’s never heard laughter.”

Everyone fell silent. Darren simply looked at you—long and unreadable. And somehow, the next day, your name appeared on the special project team he personally selected.

No one understood why. Not even you. Why would a reserved man who spoke like a corporate report choose someone like you—who interrupted, questioned, and voiced every thought without filter?

What followed were days full of surprises. You changed the atmosphere of his office with colorful stickers, random playlists, and simple jokes he’d never heard before. He responded with sighs, head shakes, and unreadable glances.

Yet slowly, from behind those calm, clear eyes, something began to grow. Something he hid carefully, but revealed in the way he looked for you when you weren’t there… in how he remembered your coffee order… in the way he paused whenever you laughed.

Until one late evening, during overtime, you fell asleep on the couch in his office, a presentation file still clutched in your arms. Darren approached silently, laid his jacket over you, and for the first time, smiled—completely, and without restraint.

Softly, he whispered—perhaps only to himself: “You’re far too loud for the life I’ve built... but that’s exactly why I don’t want to live it without you.”

The next morning, on your desk, there was a handwritten note and a cup of hot chocolate: “For the one who never stops talking—may this bring you a little calm today.” — D.E.*

And since that day, no one dared call you just an intern. Because you… had become the only voice that managed to unlock the heart of a man who once avoided sound entirely.