Sitting in the adjacent cubicle, you’d spent the entire day relishing his misery. The coldness with which he’d greeted you in the morning… that exaggerated professional distance, as if he hadn't made you his in his bed just hours prior, had struck a direct blow to your pride. So you made it your mission to collect interest on every second: mocking glances, biting remarks about his lack of focus and "accidental" brushes against his body whenever you walked past his desk.

By eight in the evening, you were the only two left on the floor. The white glare of your monitors was the sole light cutting through the dim office.

You stood up and strolled over to his desk, leaning against the edge, crossing your arms and looking down at him. Baek-gi kept his eyes glued to his screen, but the vein in his neck was throbbing visibly.

"Still can't find the error, Baek-gi?" you teased in a low voice. "Wow... what a disappointment. I thought the golden boy from university didn't make mistakes. Or maybe you're just far too distracted thinking about last night."

"I am working" he said, his voice scraped raw with tension as his hand gripped his mouse like a vise.

"Right, 'working'… pretending to work just like you're pretending nothing happened" you chuckled, though the sound was short and bitter. "You're a coward, you know that? A guy who thinks he's so perfect, but at the end of the day, you're not man enough to look a woman in the eyes after sleeping with her. If it really meant so little to you, why are you so nervous right now?"

"Shut up" he muttered, his voice dropping an octave deeper.

"Or what? Going to go whimpering to HR? Or are you going to run away like you did this morning? You don't have what it takes to…"

Click.

The electrical breaker tripped, cutting the power out completely.

The hum of the computers died instantly, plunging the entire floor into dead silence and near-total darkness, illuminated only by the faint glow of the city skyline filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

The scrape of Baek-gi’s chair rolling violently backward echoed through the dark. He stood up. You felt his tall, menacing presence close in on you in the shadows until his hot breath brushed your forehead.

"If you have something to ask of me..." his voice vibrated dark and low, scraping against your ear while his hands seized your hips with an unquestionable, bruising force, “ask me now, plain and simple”.

Goosebumps broke across every inch of your skin. The confidence behind your taunts instantly melted into a wave of intense heat straight to your lower belly.

"Fuck me" you gasped out, challenging him in the dark. "Fuck me right here if you're really a man."

Baek-gi let out a low growl. He spun you around roughly, slamming your palms flat against the surface of his desk and pressing his chest flush against your back. You felt the rock-hard length of his erection pressing firmly against your buttocks through the fabric of his trousers.

"You have no idea how badly I wanted to shut your fucking mouth" he hissed against your neck before biting down hard on your skin, drawing a high-pitched gasp from your throat.

Without wasting a second, he rucked up your skirt and pushed your underwear to the side. His long fingers found you completely soaked. He shoved two of them inside you in one swift stroke, pulling a choked gasp from your lips as he began working them fast and deep, as if punishing you.

"Look at you..." he purred with venom, his lips pressed to your ear as his fingers stretched you open. "Put on a whole show all day long just to end up like this."

With his other hand, he unbuckled his pants at lightning speed. Gripping his cock, he aligned himself at your drenched entrance. Holding your hip with an unyielding grip, he thrust all the way inside you in one fierce push.

The sheer pleasure arched your spine, pulling a cry from your throat that lost itself in the empty office space. Baek-gi gave you no quarter, pounding into you from behind at a brutal pace. The sound of his hips slapping against your backside and the creaking of the desk sounded scandalously loud in the quiet room.

"Let's see if you still think I'm a coward" he panted into your ear, accelerating his hips, hitting deep against the sweet spot that kept stealing the air from your lungs.

You clung to the edge of the desk, your legs trembling violently while he fucked you with a roughness you never would have imagined him capable of. The smell of his expensive cologne thick in the air was driving you out of your mind. Baek-gi slid a hand down between your thighs to find your clit, rubbing it intensely as he thrust mercilessly, pushing you over the edge in a matter of seconds.

"Baek-gi... I'm going to...!" you whimpered, unable to construct a full sentence.

"Do it" he commanded.

Your walls clamped down around him in a violent, shattering orgasm that set your whole body shaking. Feeling you contract around him was his final undoing: with three brutal, bottoming-out thrusts, Baek-gi let out a deep groan and spilled thick inside you, collapsing his weight fully against your back, his chest heaving.

You remained like that for a few breathless moments, leaning on each other, listening only to the echo of your ragged breathing in the dark. He rested his forehead against your shoulder, pressing a few slow kisses to the sweat-sheened skin of your neck.

A second later, the power snapped back on. The overhead fluorescent lights flickered to life, temporarily blinding you both as the monitors began their boot-up sequences.

The transition back to reality was almost comical in its speed. Baek-gi withdrew slowly, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket to clean himself up with practiced agility before pulling his pants up and adjusting his belt with steady hands. You smoothed your skirt and adjusted your underwear, trying to catch your breath and reclaim your composure as you leaned against the desk on trembling legs.

"The camera security feed doesn't reboot automatically, don't worry" Baek-gi said, catching the panic on your face. He straightened his necktie and pushed his glasses up his nose. "They probably aren't even running yet."

There was no trace left of the distant, standoffish guy from that morning... his eyes held a co-conspiratorial glint and a cocky smirk played at the corner of his lips.

"The network system is rebooting now" he said in his professional voice… though tinged with an unforgettable rasp. "I believe it will take me just ten more minutes to locate the error in the file."

You tucked a stray strand of messy hair behind your ear, returning his smug smirk as you began walking back to your cubicle.

You gathered your things with slow, almost ceremonial movements. The hallway leading to the Steel Team was submerged in a grayish gloom, broken only by the emergency lights.

Rounding the corner, you spotted him. In a sea of deserted desks, a small island of white light marked his position. Baek-gi was hunched over his keyboard, suit jacket hung meticulously over the back of his chair, shirt sleeves rolled up to his forearms to reveal the tension in his muscles.

You approached silently, watching him adjust his glasses with a sharp flick... a nervous tic that only appeared when he was at the end of his rope. His fingers hit the keys with mechanical, almost violent precision.

"Still here, Baek-gi?" you asked softly, shattering the crystalline silence.

He didn’t jump, but you saw his shoulders tighten even further. It took him a few seconds to swivel his chair, and when he did, the monitor’s light reflected off his lenses, momentarily hiding his eyes.

When he finally looked at you, you saw the deep shadows under his eyes and the set of his jaw. He was handsome in that severe, academic way that always managed to disarm you, but he was clearly in a foul mood.

"I have to finish this," he said, his voice raspier than usual, devoid of the sweetness he usually reserved for you. "Assistant Manager Kang needs this report first thing in the morning."

"It's late," you insisted, taking a step closer. "You're exhausted. Let's go home, grab some dinner, and you can come back early tomorrow."

He let out a heavy sigh… half-exhale, half-grunt. He ran a hand through his hair, ruining the perfect style he’d maintained all day.

"I can't just 'come back tomorrow.' If I don't do it now, it won't be perfect. Go on ahead. Take a taxi, I'll call you when I'm out."

His tone was clipped, practically an order. At any other time, you might have been hurt by his coldness, but you knew the monster that was One International and how it devoured the mental peace of men like him. Baek-gi didn't need a logical suggestion; he needed a distraction his analytical mind couldn't ignore.

"I'm not leaving," you said with a calmness that made him look at you again, this time with curiosity. "And you need a break, even if your brain says otherwise."

You walked over to the lighting control panel for the floor. With a decisive move, you turned the dimmer until the office was submerged in near-total darkness, leaving only the bluish glow of his screen and the warm circle of his desk lamp. The atmosphere shifted instantly; the professional space became intimate, almost illicit.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice dropping an octave instinctively.

You walked to his desk and stood behind his chair, resting your hands on his shoulders. They were hard as rocks.

"Why did you turn the lights off?" he warned, though his voice lacked conviction.

"Shhh," you quieted him. "Just enjoy it, sweetheart."

Your fingers began to knead the tense muscles of his neck and shoulders. You felt him fighting the urge to relax. His breathing was erratic.

"We don't have time for this..." he murmured, but he didn't pull away.

"We have all the time in the world because no one else is here," you whispered in his ear, letting your breath brush against his lobe. "But you're right. I shouldn't waste time talking."

With a firm shove, you pushed his office chair back, moving him a few inches away from the desk. He looked up at you with wide eyes… a mix of alarm and a desire that was beginning to cloud his professional gaze.

Before he could protest, you dropped down, disappearing from his sight as you slid under the heavy, dark wood desk.

"Wait, what…?" His voice cut off as your hands slid up his calves to his thighs.

The space under the desk was cramped and smelled of that masculine cologne he always wore. You knelt on the gray carpet, trapped between his legs and the frame of the desk.

You grabbed the base of his chair and pulled it back toward the desk, forcing him flush against the table with you right there, hidden from the world.

"Stay still," you commanded from the shadows.

"Someone could walk in," he whispered, and you could hear the frantic excitement in his voice. "If the guard makes his rounds now... or if one of my teammates forgot something..."

"Then you’d better keep working so they don't suspect a thing," you replied, your fingers already deftly unbuckling his black leather belt.

The metallic clink of the buckle seemed to echo in the silent office. As you slid the zipper down, his trousers fell open, revealing his underwear already struggling to contain his erection. Baek-gi wasn't a man of half-measures; even his desire was firm and overwhelming.

When you freed him, his cock sprang forward, hot and pulsing in the dimness beneath the desk. He was thick, a deep flush of pink, with veins mapping out paths of fire beneath his skin.

You took him in your hands, feeling the weight and warmth of him. It was a feeling of absolute power, having your boyfriend this vulnerable.

"Keep working, Baek-gi," you said, dragging the tip of your tongue along the base of his glans, catching the bead of pre-cum already surfacing.

You heard a choked gasp above you. The sound of his fingers hitting the keys returned, but the rhythm was broken, full of typos.

"I... I can't concentrate like this," he managed, his voice dropping to a gravelly low.

"You have to. It's your report, isn't it? Show me how professional you are."

You took his head into your mouth, enveloping him in the wet heat of your tongue. Baek-gi’s response was immediate; his hips lifted slightly off the chair and his hands gripped the edge of the desk so hard the wood groaned.

You began to suck slowly, savoring him, letting your tongue play with his frenulum while your hands worked the base you couldn't reach.

From your position, you could see his legs tensing and his feet shifting nervously on the carpet. The danger of the open office and the possibility of being caught, acted as a catalyst for your own arousal. You felt your own core dampening, the friction of your clothes against your sensitive skin as you moved rhythmically.

You picked up the pace, taking in as much as you could, letting your throat surround him completely. The sound of the suction, wet and rhythmic, seemed amplified in the hollow space under the desk.

"Ah..." Baek-gi’s moan was deep, a vibration you felt in your own chest.

With one hand, you began to massage him, feeling the weight and the mounting tension. He was reaching his limit incredibly fast, his body wasn't used to this kind of intensity while trying to maintain a facade of normalcy.

Looking up through the small gap between his thighs and the keyboard, you saw his expression: eyes closed, head thrown back, face contorted in a mask of pure pleasure and agony.

"You're... making too much noise," he hissed through gritted teeth, even as his hands continued to pretend to type.

"So are you," you replied after pulling him out for a second, only to dive back on him even harder.

You started using your hands to pump him while your mouth focused on the head, using a technique you knew drove him insane. You began to gag as you tried to take him deeper, and that guttural sound seemed to be the trigger for him.

Suddenly, the hallway lights snapped on. The motion sensor had detected someone.

You froze, him still in your mouth. Baek-gi went rigid as a corpse. The sound of heavy footsteps, rubber-soled shoes, echoed down the hall, approaching the Steel area.

"Baek-gi?" A masculine voice, mature and slightly weary, broke the silence. "Still hitting it hard at this hour?"

It was Geu-rae, one of the newer employees. His voice was only a few yards away.

Baek-gi made a superhuman effort. His fingers began to type again, a frantic clatter to mask any other sound.

"Y-yes, Geu-rae," Baek-gi replied. His voice wavered in a way that anyone else would mistake for extreme fatigue, but you knew it was the effort of not moaning. "Almost done."

Instead of backing down, you took advantage of the tension. You wrapped your lips around him and began to suck with agonizing slowness, swirling your tongue in slow circles. You watched Baek-gi’s legs tremble. His fingers stalled over the keyboard for a heartbeat before resuming their frantic pace.

"Hey, by any chance, do you know what time the last train leaves? I really don't want to sleep in a sauna tonight," Geu-rae continued from the doorway.

Baek-gi shut his eyes so tight wrinkles formed at his temples. You took him deeper, letting your throat squeeze him.

"At... ah... at eleven," Baek-gi said with an exhale that sounded almost like a sigh of relief. "The last one leaves at 23:00. You have... you have twenty minutes."

"Oh! Then I’d better hurry. Don't stay too much longer. Tomorrow’s another long day. Goodnight!"

"Goodnight..." Baek-gi whispered as the footsteps began to recede.

You both waited in absolute silence until the hallway sensor light clicked off again, returning the office to its protective gloom. Baek-gi sank into his chair, arms dropping to his sides, his chest heaving.

"I... I almost had a heart attack," he said, looking down and meeting your eyes, which were glittering with mischief in the dark. "You're lucky Geu-rae was too tired to notice."

"It's not luck, Baek-gi. It's that you couldn't help yourself," you replied, and without giving him a chance to recover, you went back on the offensive.

There was no slowness this time. You used your hands, your mouth, and your tongue in a coordinated frenzy. You knew he was on the absolute edge. You swallowed him as deep as you could, ignoring the gags that made your eyes water, tightening your fingers around his base.

Baek-gi’s body arched violently. His hands flew to your hair, not to pull you away, but to hold you there as he surrendered completely.

A long, low groan, almost a suppressed roar, escaped his throat as he came. You felt the heat of him flooding your mouth, burst after burst, a massive release that seemed to carry away all the stress of the week. You stayed there until the last spasm left his thighs.

Several minutes passed where the only sound was the hum of the computers and your breathing returning to normal. Slowly, you slid out from under the desk.

Baek-gi was slumped in the chair, his glasses fogged up and his shirt untucked. You stood up, smoothing your skirt and wiping the corner of your mouth with an elegant gesture.

He looked at you, and for the first time all night, the professional rigidity was gone, replaced by a look of exhausted adoration.

"My report..." he said, pointing to the screen where there were only lines of gibberish and typos. "It's not finished."

"I told you to keep working," you reminded him with a triumphant smile as you handed him his jacket. "Now, turn that off. We're going home."

He let out a soft laugh, his first of the night, and after logging out, you walked together toward the elevators. In the metal cubicle, surrounded by mirrors, he looked at his reflection and tried to fix his hair with his fingers.

"Manager Kang is going to kill me tomorrow," he muttered, though he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close.

"Tell him a dog ate the report," you joked, leaning your head on his shoulder.

He kissed your temple, a sweet, romantic gesture that closed the loop on the intensity of a few minutes ago.

You hadn’t seen him in years. Not since university, back when you’d help each other with assignments but never crossed the line beyond what was strictly necessary. You had loved him in silence then, with the quiet timidity of someone who felt invisible. And he, always so focused, so buried in his own world, never seemed to notice.

But here he was, looking effortless in a black suit, his dark hair falling in a look of calculated messiness. Baek-gi was the only bachelor left in his circle of friends, while you were stuck in a relationship that felt less like a commitment and more like a life sentence. Your boyfriend stood beside you, absorbed in small talk with the other guests, completely oblivious to the way your skin burned under Baek-gi’s discreet gaze.

Then, the music shifted.

The melancholic opening of The Blue Nile drifted through the speakers, and the first chords of "Downtown Lights" wrapped around you. It was one of your favorites. Your fingers tightened around your glass as Baek-gi began to move toward the dance floor.

He wasn’t alone. He couldn't be.

A woman reached out for his hand, and he took it with that natural elegance that seemed to radiate from him. You felt a sharp, ridiculous stab of jealousy sink deep into your chest.

You took a shaky breath and looked away. You couldn’t bear to watch, so you slipped away, desperate for a change of scenery to calm your nerves.

The air in the restroom was warm and humid. You stood before the sink, staring at your reflection; you looked good, but the discomfort was written all over your face. Suddenly, you heard the door click shut. Before you could turn, Baek-gi had you pinned against the marble counter, his chest inches from yours. Your breath hitched, your heart hammering out of sync with the muffled music of the reception. He leaned in, his lips a breath away from yours.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispered, his voice low and gravelly against your ear.

But you didn’t. Instead, your fingers tangled in his shirt, pulling him closer. Your mouth sought his with a desperation fueled by years of silence. The kiss was searing, urgent… a dam finally breaking. His hands, firm and certain, traced your body as if memorizing every curve. You melted against him, against the cold door, certain that if someone walked in right now, you wouldn't even care.

Then, your boyfriend’s laughter pulled you back to reality.

The vision of the bathroom evaporated. You were standing in the middle of the reception, an empty wine glass in your hand and your cheeks flushed hot. Baek-gi was still on the dance floor, but now, his eyes were fixed directly on you.

You swallowed hard and forced yourself to look away.

Deciding you needed something stronger than wine, you headed for the bar to order two mojitos. But a figure cut you off, grabbing your hand and pulling you into a run. You didn’t need to look up to know it was him… you just followed.

Once you scrambled into an unfamiliar car, you finally took in your surroundings. You were in the parking lot, the overhead lights flickering against the wet asphalt. You were in the passenger seat, and Baek-gi was behind the wheel, his expression raw and intense.

“Just say the word,” he told you. “And we’re gone. Anywhere you want. You don’t have to go back in there.”

You didn’t answer. You just stared at him, your heart a tangled mess in your chest. And then, without a second thought, you leaned over and kissed him. It was different from the bathroom, slower and deeper. Baek-gi responded with a quiet, simmering passion, as if he’d been waiting for this moment his entire life. His hands trembled as he held your waist, as if he were afraid to ever let go.

But the music changed again, and the fantasy shattered like glass.

Your chest heaved with shallow breaths. You scanned the room for Baek-gi and found him at the edge of the dance floor, watching you with an unnerving intensity. Something in his eyes told you he was feeling it too. That you weren't the only one drowning in forbidden thoughts.

Then, you saw him start to move through the crowd toward you. You glanced back at your boyfriend, who was still lost in his conversation. Baek-gi reached out his hand, and you didn't hesitate to take it.

Suddenly you were in the middle of the floor, surrounded by people, but they were the only two souls in existence. The music enveloped you, and when Baek-gi leaned down, his mouth finally met yours.

There was no fear, no doubt. Just the pressure of his lips and the absolute certainty that this was real. Your fingers laced through his hair, your body molding into his. The crowd didn't matter. The life you’d built with your boyfriend didn't matter. Only Baek-gi. Only this.

Except... it wasn't real.

Exhausted by the tricks your mind was playing, you decided to step out onto the patio for some air. As you passed his table, you caught a glimpse of Baek-gi standing up, following you with a steady, purposeful stride. Your stomach did a slow roll as he caught up to you. Without a word, he stood by your side and pressed a folded slip of paper into your hand. Your fingers brushed for only a second, but it was enough to send a jolt through your entire body.

As he walked away, you looked down at the paper. With trembling hands, you opened it.

A phone number.

There were no words, but you didn’t need any.

Ahn Young-yi was already there. She shed her trench coat with slow movements, revealing a stiff posture that betrayed a sleepless night spent staring at endless spreadsheets.

"Good morning," she greeted. Her voice, always so composed, let slip a sigh that carried the entire weight of the week.

"Morning, Young-yi," you replied, offering a sympathetic smile as you leaned against the counter. Between women in such a competitive, male-dominated environment, these brief moments of calm were a survival pact.

"It’s going to be a long day," she remarked, watching the rhythmic drip of the coffee maker. "The department head has been in a foul mood since early this morning. How about we go out with the guys tonight? It’s Friday; if we don’t clear our heads with a few drinks, we won't make it to Monday alive."

The thought of a cold beer and the noise of a tavern was the only incentive you needed. But before you could confirm, the door swung open with a sharp thud.

"I heard 'drinks' and my body is ready!" Han Seok-yool burst into the room with his signature electric energy, fixing his hair with a confidence that bordered on arrogance but felt strangely comforting. "Count me in. If I don't get out of these hallways today, I’m going to start talking to the printers."

However, Seok-yool’s chatter faded into the background when Jang Baek-gi entered the room. His presence always seemed to bring order to the chaos. He wore a perfectly tailored gray suit and held two paper cups with the logo of the ground-floor café—the one that served the "real" coffee interns couldn't afford every day.

Without a word to the others, he walked straight to you. The distance between you closed until you could catch his scent—a blend of sandalwood and clean laundry.

He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. It was a gesture that had started casually months ago, but now felt like a silent claim of ownership in front of everyone else.

"Good morning. I brought you this," he said in his deep voice, handing you one of the coffees. It was at the exact temperature you liked.

His fingers brushed yours as he handed over the cup. It was a contact of barely a second, but it was enough to make your pulse race, reminding you that despite the cold steel and glass of the office, what was simmering between you was far harder to ignore than any sales report.

By mid-afternoon, the office AC seemed to have surrendered to the summer sun beating against the floor-to-ceiling windows. The atmosphere felt stifling, thick with the smell of dry paper and the electric hum of computers working at full capacity.

On your desk, the mountain of files and export invoices seemed to grow for every one you managed to file away; your vision blurred slightly from exhaustion and low blood sugar.

Jang Baek-gi, whose efficiency was almost surgical, finished organizing his documents and took a moment to observe you. He noticed how you ran a hand over the back of your neck, trying to brush away stray hairs, and how your shoulders were hunched tight under the stress of an imminent deadline.

Quietly, he leaned over the partition that separated your worlds. His figure, still impeccable despite the heat, cast a protective shadow over your desk.

"Do you need help?" he asked. His tone was his usual—serious, professional, and restrained—but there was a softness in his gaze reserved exclusively for you.

"I’m fine, really. It’s just hunger and this heat; I can't think straight," you half-lied, forcing a smile to hide the bone-deep weariness.

Baek-gi wasn't a man of grand speeches or dramatic declarations; he preferred the language of action. Without a word, he reached into his desk drawer and handed you a cereal bar, letting his fingers linger against yours a second longer than necessary.

"I don't know what I did to deserve you, you’re always saving my stomach," you said with a half-smile, feeling a spark of energy return from the small gesture.

"Not just your stomach," he replied, a rare flash of mischief in his eyes that he seldom let out in front of others.

You stared at him, playing along by acting indignant at his comment, while he gave an elegant shrug.

"Well then, Mr. Jang, make a list of all your favors so I can see how to pay you back," you challenged in a whisper, taking advantage of the fact that the section head was distracted.

Baek-gi adjusted his glasses—a habit of his when he was about to say something important.

"It would be a very long list," he admitted, holding eye contact. "But you can start by paying me back with something simple: have lunch with me today. Just the two of us."

That proposal broke the invisible office script. At One International, the interns always ate as an inseparable unit, but Baek-gi had just drawn a line, separating the two of you from the rest.

"If you're buying, it’s a deal," you replied, looking down at your papers to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks.

He nodded, satisfied. Before returning to his work, he walked to the window to crack it open and "borrowed" a small desk fan from a distracted coworker to aim it at your desk. It was an act of silent care, a breeze that felt like a caress, reminding you that in the middle of this concrete desert, he was your personal oasis.

The harmony you had built that morning shattered before you even left the office. Baek-gi, punctual and intent on taking you to the restaurant he’d meticulously picked out, headed toward the breakroom. However, he stopped dead in his tracks before entering.

Your laughter, bright and genuine, filled the hallway. Inside, Han Seok-yool was desperately trying to dry his shirt with paper napkins while cursing at a soda can that had just exploded in his face.

"You’re such a mess, Seok-yool!" you laughed, helping him wipe his cheek with a gesture that, to outside eyes, overflowed with a painful level of intimacy.

"But this mess makes you laugh, and that’s a public service!" he shot back, winking with his trademark harmless mischief.

Baek-gi cleared his throat—a dry sound that cut through the air like a knife. His brow was furrowed, his posture military-stiff. Jealousy, a feeling he considered beneath a rational man, burned in his chest.

"Seok-yool, call maintenance. We can't leave this mess here," Baek-gi ordered coldly, without looking at you once.

The lunch that followed was an exercise in endurance. In the small restaurant, Baek-gi’s silence was a concrete wall. You tried to tear it down by telling stories about your childhood—how your father would buy you sweets behind your mother's back—looking for that spark of interest you’d seen hours earlier. He only nodded, lost in a labyrinth of dark thoughts, crushing his paper cup with unnecessary force.

The tension only escalated during the group outing. In the dim light of the bar, amidst shots of soju and forced laughter, Seok-yool dropped the comment that finally blew Baek-gi’s fuse.

"You should be careful, Baek-gi," Seok-yool joked, already a bit tipsy. "Y/N is the jewel of the office. I’d venture to say there isn't a single man in Sales who hasn't fallen a little under her spell. Myself included."

You watched Baek-gi’s jaw tighten until it turned white. When it was time to leave, Seok-yool offered to drive you home, but Baek-gi intervened with a bluntness that left everyone speechless.

"I’ll take her," he stated, grabbing your arm firmly. "I don't need a car to make sure she gets home safe."

The taxi ride was a wasteland of words. When you arrived at your building, he insisted on walking you to your door. Under the dim, yellow light of the hallway—which made his features look like they were carved from stone—the internal pressure of the last few days finally snapped.

"Forgive my behavior; it’s just that Seok-yool made sure I hated him today," he muttered, looking at the floor.

"It’s fine, he gets on my nerves sometimes too," you replied.

"I think he likes you," he blurted out suddenly.

"Seok-yool? I don't think so. He said it himself—he used to, but not anymore," you sighed, finally catching his eye. "Besides, he’s not my type."

"And what *is* your type?"

"I don't know... it’s complicated, actually. There’s someone I like very much... someone who treats me with a sweetness that completely disarms me, but then he pulls away like I’m a stranger. He never makes a move and never tells me how he feels."

You took a step closer, seeking the warmth in his gaze, but he seemed petrified.

"Maybe I’m just a fool making up fantasies in an empty office," you whispered, your voice breaking with humiliation. "Goodnight, Baek-gi."

You gave him a fleeting kiss on the cheek—a bitter echo of the morning’s greeting—and went into your apartment. On the other side of the wood, you waited for a knock, a word, any sign. But you only heard the echo of his footsteps fading down the hallway, leaving you wrapped in a silence you interpreted, with a heavy heart, as a final rejection.

The following week was an emotional desert. The air at One International became colder than ever. Baek-gi, the man who always arrived with coffee at the perfect temperature and a kiss on the cheek, had turned into a stranger.

There was no more coffee on your desk, no shared looks over the partition. Hurt by what you saw as a silent rejection of your confession, you retreated into a defensive pride.

The tension was so palpable it affected the whole team; lunches became battlegrounds of awkward silences where everyone else had to pick a side. It wasn't until Young-yi, fed up with the suffocating atmosphere, cornered Baek-gi in the breakroom.

"You’re destroying her, Baek-gi," she snapped, no sugar-coating. "She pulled away because she thinks you don't feel the same. Are you really so dense that you didn't realize the 'gentle, smart' man she was talking about was you?"

That revelation was the blow that shattered Baek-gi’s armor. The paranoid suspicion that the "guy" was Jang Geu-rae or Seok-yool evaporated, leaving him face-to-face with his own stupidity.

You found him on the office rooftop at sunset. The wind mussed his hair and the orange glow of the sun reflected off his glasses, giving him a vulnerability you had never seen before. When he saw you arrive, you tried to turn back, but he was faster, catching your arm—firmly, but not to hurt, only to hold onto what he had almost lost.

"Please, listen to me," he pleaded, his usually controlled voice trembling slightly. "There was an unforgivable misunderstanding. When you told me about that person you liked, my insecurity made me believe you were talking about someone else. I pulled away because it hurt to see you and think you belonged to another. But in my paranoia, I ended up neglecting the only thing that actually mattered: us."

He stepped closer, closing the distance you had sworn to maintain. He took your hands in his; they were warm and, for the first time, a little shaky.

"Forgive me for being so stupid," he continued, looking you directly in the eyes. "I’ve liked you since the first day you walked into this office. You’re smart, you’re strong, and you have a dignity that I admire more than anything in this world. And yes... you also look incredibly beautiful in that blue shirt."

Your eyes welled up, but this time it wasn't from humiliation; it was the relief of finally being seen.

"You’re a handsome idiot too, Baek-gi," you managed to say with a small laugh that broke the final wall between you.

"Can I?" he whispered, closing the last bit of space.

"Please," you answered.

Baek-gi took your face in his hands and kissed you. It was a slow kiss, heavy with all the words that had been saved up through months of emails and spreadsheets. In that moment, under the Seoul sky and with Seok-yool’s distant, teasing shouts coming from the rooftop door, One International stopped being a glass prison.