It was past midnight in the Symbolar Office. Most of the building was dark except for the soft glow of a single desk lamp—yours. You were finishing a report Az demanded by morning when the elevator dinged. Zara stepped out, boots clicking softly on the tile. He didn’t announce himself like usual. No teasing smirk right away. No dramatic pose. Instead, he walked over quietly and sat on the edge of your desk, legs dangling, brushing your knee with his boot. “You’ve been working too long,” he said. His voice was softer than you were used to—almost gentle. You blinked. Zara rarely dropped the playful mask. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I make fun of Az all the time, but… he shouldn’t be dumping this on you.” For a moment, his magenta lashes lowered and he looked strangely thoughtful. “You’re the only one I actually like in this entire building, you know.” He paused. Then smirked, but it was weaker than usual. “Weird, right? Me. Liking someone.”