Dawn crept gently across Nova City, painting the skyline in soft gold.
Inside Luma Group's top-floor office, the storm of the night before had left only stillness—
and two people standing a little too close to the truth.
Yoon Ha-rin's head rested lightly against Kang Jae-hyun's shoulder.
Neither spoke.
The only sound was the faint hum of the city waking below.
For the first time in years, silence felt safe.
---
When she finally pulled away, her cheeks were warm with color.
"I should go," she murmured. "People will start arriving."
He smiled, eyes soft. "Let them. I'd still be here."
Her lips curved despite herself. "You say that like you're not the CEO's son."
"And you say that like you don't already own half my thoughts," he replied quietly.
She blinked, half-laughing, half-terrified of how easily he could undo her with words.
"Don't say things you can't take back, Jae-hyun."
He reached for her hand, fingers brushing hers just once.
"I don't want to take any of it back."
---
They left the office before the corridors filled.
But by the time she reached her desk, whispers had already started.
> "Did you see Director Kang this morning?"
"He looked… different. Smiling?"
"And wasn't Miss Yoon the last one to leave yesterday?"
Ha-rin forced herself to ignore it, diving into emails.
Still, every vibration of her phone made her heart jump.
At 9:12 a.m., a message blinked onto her screen:
> From: Kang Jae-hyun
Subject: Coffee?
Same rooftop. 10 minutes. ☕
She bit her lip, half smiling, half panicking.
---
The rooftop again—same air, new heartbeat.
He was already there, leaning against the railing, sleeves rolled, sunlight glinting off his watch.
When she approached, he offered her a cup. "Peace offering. No boardrooms, no titles."
She accepted it, fingers brushing his. "So… just Ha-rin and Jae-hyun?"
He nodded. "That sounds dangerously nice."
They stood together, sipping quietly, the city unfolding beneath them like a painting.
"Do you regret it?" he asked suddenly.
She looked up. "Regret what?"
"Last night."
Her breath caught. The way he said it—gentle, unafraid—felt heavier than the words themselves.
She shook her head slowly. "No. Do you?"
His answer was a whisper near her ear. "Not for a single heartbeat."
---
But the moment broke when the door swung open.
Han Soo-ah stepped out, her smile bright and sharp.
"Oh," she said, feigning surprise. "I didn't realize you two were… having coffee."
Ha-rin stiffened. "We were just discussing the campaign."
Soo-ah's gaze flicked between them. "Of course. You always work so passionately, Ha-rin-ssi."
Jae-hyun's tone turned cool. "Miss Han, if you need me, schedule a meeting through my assistant."
Her smile faltered. "Of course, Director Kang."
As soon as she left, Ha-rin sighed. "Great. Now we'll both be office gossip."
"Let them talk," Jae-hyun said simply. "We'll give them something worth talking about."
She stared at him, half-amused, half-alarmed. "You're impossible."
"And you," he murmured, brushing her hair aside with quiet tenderness, "are the most real thing in this entire building."
---
For a moment the world outside their rooftop stopped moving—
just two people suspended between yesterday's rain and tomorrow's storm,
holding on to a fragile peace they both knew couldn't stay hidden forever.