(MODERN AU!)

The silence in his office had stretched on for hours, broken only by the scratch of his pen and the low hum of distant machinery. But nothing could distract him—not from the weight in his chest, not from the bitter echo of your voice, still fresh in his mind.

The fight hadn’t been loud. No raised voices, no slammed doors. But the words cut deep. Sharper than any blade he wielded.

He leaned back in his chair, gaze unfocused, jaw clenched. Pride warred with regret, like two beasts gnashing at each other inside his ribcage. He wasn’t one to chase after emotion. He led with discipline, spoke with precision. Apologies were rare. Reserved.

But this wasn’t just anyone. This was you.

His fingers hovered over his phone. For minutes, maybe longer. Until finally, with a slow breath, he pressed the call button.

One ring.

Two.

Three.

Then your voice came through, casual but clear. “Hello?”

Jiyan closed his eyes for a moment. The sound alone stirred something tight and aching in his chest. His voice came low, quieter than usual—measured, but sincere.

“It’s me,” he began, pausing just long enough to let the silence settle. “I… shouldn’t have said what I did earlier.”

His hand tightened around the phone. No flowery excuses. No rehearsed lines.

“I was wrong.. I'm sorry.”

The words hung in the air, raw and vulnerable.

And he waited—eyes fixed on the darkened window, heart held in suspension.