"Is someone there? Please, I won't hurt you — just show yourself."
An extremely pale-skinned figure stood there, his skin glowing under the moonlight. His long, wavy hair ended in perfectly messy curls. His cheeks held a natural flush, as if he were blushing — and don't even get me started on his eyes. They looked like rare diamonds had replaced his irises. Honestly, I have no words to describe his beauty. He looked... almost inhuman — as if he belonged to a completely different specie.
POV :
The alarm clock had been ringing nonstop — loud enough to wake the dead, or at least fall off the table — yet somehow, I was still in deep sleep.
I groaned in annoyance.
"What time is it?" I mumbled, reaching out to shut the alarm clock and check the time.
"Ten... ten!! Oh God, I'm late again! My boss is literally going to kill me!"
I shot out of bed and rushed straight to the bathroom.
I took the quickest shower imaginable, threw on whatever clothes I could find in my closet, and — as usual — skipped breakfast before running straight to the bus stop.
As soon as I entered the company building, I ran straight toward my boss's office, not paying attention to anything around me.
I stopped in front of his door, hesitating.
"Should I knock? Or just walk in? What if he's already angry?"
After overthinking for way too long, I took a deep breath, prepared myself for the inevitable scolding, and finally knocked.
When I heard his permission, I stepped inside.
He didn't notice me right away — his eyes were glued to the files in his hands.
I cleared my throat softly.
"Umm... Sir—"
His eyes shot up like lasers — honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if he actually wanted me dead.
Still, I flashed my most innocent, "please-don't-yell-at-me" smile.
Did it work?
Of course not.
This man clearly had no soul. Or heart. Or basic human empathy.
And then, he lectured me for a whole hour.
Apparently, his time is precious — which is hilarious, considering he just wasted sixty minutes screaming at me for being ten minutes late.
Honestly, I'm just glad his office is soundproof.
If it wasn't, the entire company would've heard his voice — and trust me, it sounded like someone had hooked him up to a megaphone.
After that never-ending yapping session, I dragged myself back to my desk.
I dropped my stuff onto the table, stretched my arms, and let my body relax as I leaned back into my chair.
With a sigh, I closed my eyes to calm myself—
Only to be startled by a loud voice calling my name.
"Seren!!"
I didn't even have to open my eyes to know who it was.
Of course. Mira — my best friend and the only reason I survive this place.
I opened my eyes and looked her way.
Of course she already knew what I'd been through — she always does.
To fix my horrible mood, she had the ultimate weapon: cheesecake.
My favorite.
The second I saw it, I forgot everything — the yelling, the stress, the trauma.
It was just me and that cheesecake now.
Soulmates.
I devoured the cheesecake before anyone could notice — especially my boss.
If he caught me slacking off again, he'd probably eat me alive.
Once I was done inhaling my moment of happiness, I got back to my usual routine.
You know… the glamorous life of a secretary.
Business deals, preparing presentations, contacting other companies, double-checking every document before giving them to him, typing up agreement forms, making his coffee — twice a day — and a dozen other things that aren't even in my job description.
After surviving that exhausting job, I finally got home, took a shower, cooked myself some noodles with meat, and collapsed onto my bed like a dead fish.
I just wanted to relax. Eat. Breathe. Be left alone.
That's when I got a message from Mira.
Mira: "There's a party tonight. Tons of hot guys. You're coming. End of discussion."
According to her, it was the perfect place for me to "finally find a boyfriend."
Because obviously, a party full of sweaty strangers and loud music is where all great love stories begin.
As usual, I rejected her offer.
I mean, let's be honest — in today's world, the most common "type" girls go for is the same: muscular, bearded guys with sculpted jaws and that cocky, alpha-male behavior.
And hey, everyone's got their preferences, no judgment.
But... is it weird that I like pretty guys?
Not handsome — pretty.
Delicate features, soft expressions, that elegant aura... and if he's cute on top of that? Instant heart attack.
But of course, the only place I ever find guys like that is either in books, in some untouchable celebrity's social media feed —
or worst case scenario: they're gay and a bottom.
Of course.
As I was lost in my thoughts, I heard a knock on my door.
I rolled my eyes and checked the camera to see who it was — and of course, who else could it be? Mira.
The moment I opened the door, she stormed right in like she owned the place.
She headed straight for my closet, flipping through my clothes like she was on a mission.
Before I could even protest, she was handing me an outfit, dragging me to the mirror, and doing my makeup, hair, and everything in between.
By the time she was done, I was wearing a cute white dress, pearl jewelry, and the expression of someone who'd completely given up on life.
Then she dragged me out the door and straight to that party.
At this point, I had no other way to escape — she had officially kidnapped me in the name of "fun."
There I was, sitting alone on the couch, sipping orange juice like the socially drained grandma I am.
I looked around the hall, taking in the crowd of overly excited people who actually wanted to be here.
And where was Mira, you ask?
The same Mira who literally kidnapped me from my house?
Yeah, she had completely abandoned me the second a cute guy looked her way.
Now she was on the dance floor, twirling around like it was a fairy tale — while I sat there, third-wheeling my own night.
I rolled my eyes and looked away, only to suddenly feel someone's presence beside me.
I immediately turned my head, like a built-in defense reflex —
Only to come face to face with someone I neither expected…
Nor wanted.
Alex.
The same Alex who's had a crush on me since high school.
The one who's followed me around through college and university like some clingy ghost.
I've lost count of how many times I've rejected him —
And yet, somehow, the concept of self-respect just never reached him.
I honestly thought that starting a full-time job would finally be my escape.
Clearly… I was wrong.
Here we are again.
At this point, I wouldn't be surprised if he showed up at my funeral, holding flowers and asking for a date.
I looked at him with the same cold, disappointed expression I always saved just for him.
And, as usual, he gave me that annoying cheeky smile like we were some long-lost lovers.
"It's been a long time, right?" he said.
I just nodded. No words. No energy. Nothing he deserved.
But of course, he didn't take the hint — again.