The Pain Behind His Smile"
Zain slipped the two old photographs back into the drawer. As he closed it, he muttered under his breath,
"These memories… they mean nothing now. Why hold on to things that only give me pain?"
His eyes fell on another frame sitting on the table—the wedding photo of him and Anya. He stared at it for a long moment, a bitter heaviness in his chest. Finally, a low voice escaped his lips,
"This… this is my fate now. Even if it's nothing more than repaying a debt."
Suddenly, something clicked in his mind.
"Ah… that file. Mrs. Yan gave it to me to fix. I should get it from her."
Pushing back his chair, he stood and made his way quietly down the hallway. His footsteps slowed as he reached her door, almost hesitant.
He raised his hand and knocked softly.
"Mrs. Yan… Mrs. Yan, I need something from you. Could you please open the door?"
The door creaked open, and Zain's eyes froze on the sight before him.
Anya stood there in soft pajamas covered with tiny cat prints. A cute cat-shaped clip held back her hair, and half her face was hidden behind a fluffy panda mask. Sleep still clung to her eyes; she looked dazed, as if she'd just rolled out of bed.
For a man who rarely smiled, Zain's lips curved almost involuntarily. A faint, unguarded smile appeared on his face—one he hadn't shown anyone in years.
Anya tugged the mask down a little, blinking at him. Her voice came out slow, almost shy.
"You… you're smiling at me?"
Zain gave a soft laugh, a mischievous glint flickering in his green eyes.
"What can I do? You look just like a cartoon character. Far too cute."
Her face instantly flushed crimson. She turned her gaze away, muttering,
"A cartoon? That's your way of complimenting me?"
Zain leaned closer, his lips curved in amusement.
"Compliment? No… just the truth. Tonight, you really do look like a little mischievous kitten."
Anya's heart skipped a beat. Her chest tightened, her pulse racing. She didn't even notice the mask sliding lower, as if she'd forgotten it entirely.
Gathering a little courage, she tried to sound casual, though her voice trembled.
"You're always teasing me… why would it matter to you if I look cute or not?"
For a moment, Zain grew still. His eyes locked on hers, serious now, the playfulness gone. His deep voice carried a weight that made her breath catch.
"It matters. More than you can imagine."
The room fell silent. Only the faint ticking of the clock and the whisper of wind outside filled the pause. Their eyes held onto each other's, as if speaking words neither dared to say aloud.
Then Zain cleared his throat, breaking the spell, and softened his tone.
"Don't be mad, Anya."
She turned her head quickly, her cheeks burning even redder.
"I'm not mad… it's just… I don't know why my face is so hot right now."
Zain chuckled, a playful warmth in his voice.
"Hot? That's because of the mask."
Anya folded her arms and pouted.
"Of course it's because of the mask! What else could it be?"
Still smiling, Zain tilted his head.
"Anyway… I actually came here for something. I need that file—the one with the Korean designs."
Anya nodded quickly and turned back into the room. A few moments later, she returned, holding the file in both hands. She extended it toward him gently.
"Here… take it."
As he reached for it, their fingers brushed—just lightly. The touch lingered for half a second, but it was enough to bring another genuine smile to his lips.
"Thanks, Anya. Honestly… seeing you just now—it's lifted my mood."
Her blush deepened. She lowered her head, trying to hide the smile tugging at her lips, and quietly slipped back inside.
Zain walked to his own room, the file in his hand, a cup of tea waiting on his desk. He sat down, murmuring to himself,
"I actually called her cute… God knows what she's thinking right now."
He glanced down at the file, then shook his head with another soft smile.
"But… she really was cute."
Meanwhile, in her own room, Anya collapsed onto her bed, burying her face into a pillow. Laughter spilled from her lips uncontrollably.
"He… he called me cute! Mr. Heartless actually called me cute!"
She rolled from side to side, kicking her legs in giddy excitement, whispering into the pillow,
"He only said 'cute'… and here I am acting like a fool!"
Catching her reflection in the mirror, she touched her flushed cheeks and adjusted her little cat clip. A shy smile curved on her lips.
"Still… maybe I do look a little cute tonight," she whispered, the warmth in her chest spreading like a secret she didn't yet want to let go of.
Tiang returned home late at night. Exhausted from work, he still held a bag with Hanami's favorite strawberry ice cream. He knocked on her door.
Hanami, in pajamas, opened it with her phone in hand. Seeing Tiang, she smiled.
"Here," Tiang said, handing her the bag. "I saw your favorite ice cream on the way, so I bought it."
Hanami smiled. "Thanks… You've been really busy these days."
Tiang's voice carried a trace of fatigue. "Yeah… we're preparing for the new clothing launch."
Hanami nodded. Just then, her phone rang. The name 'Tiang' flashed across the screen. She answered the call with a bright smile and walked back inside.
Tiang stood frozen at the doorway, forcing a smile even as his eyes brimmed with pain. He returned to his apartment, took off his coat, and sat heavily on the sofa, clasping his hands together. His voice trembled as he whispered, "When will you understand, Hanami… what I feel for you? I've loved you since childhood… That day I finally gathered the courage to confess… but you proposed to Tiang instead… and he accepted…"
Tears streamed silently down his face, a pain that felt as old as his love for her.