Apr 2019.

"Huff, I'm so tired..." Haru stretched his arms above his head, letting out an audible sigh as he glanced at me. "Are we done with the schedule for today?" he asked, grabbing his phone from the desk and walking over to where I stood in the middle of his office.

I flipped through the pages of my notebook—an old-fashioned choice I still prefer over a tablet. "You have a dinner appointment with Mr. Choi," I said, my eyes scanning the neat handwriting on the page.

"Shit..." Haru muttered under his breath, running a hand through his neatly styled hair. "Alright, let's go then." Without hesitation, he opened the door and stepped into the hallway.

I nodded, closing the notebook with a soft snap and following him out toward the elevator.

As the elevator doors slid open, we stepped inside; the muffled hum of the bustling office faded into silence. The soft whirring of the elevator descending filled the space. Haru leaned against the mirrored wall, his reflection echoing his sigh of disappointment. "What a bummer. I wanted us to have a peaceful dinner."

I adjusted the notebook in my hands and shrugged slightly. "Mrs. Lee said this meeting was necessary," I reminded him, recalling how she'd emphasized the importance of this dinner meeting countless times over the past week.

Haru huffed but said nothing more, his expression settling into a resigned calm.

~

Less than thirty minutes later, we arrived at the restaurant where we were scheduled to meet Mr. Choi. The establishment displayed an inviting warmth, and its traditional Chinese decor added a touch of elegance. Red lanterns hung gracefully from the ceiling, their soft light casting a golden glow over the room. The faintest strains of instrumental music drifted through the air, mingling with the gentle clatter of chopsticks and the low hum of hushed conversations.

The rich aroma of spices, soy, and sizzling dishes enveloped us as we followed a waiter through the dining area. He led us to a private room, separated from the main hall by intricately carved wooden panels. In the center of the room sat a large round mahogany table, its polished surface gleaming under the light of an ornate chandelier.

Mr. Choi was already seated, engrossed in the menu before him. His presence was as imposing, his gray hair neatly combed back, accentuating his sharp features. A pair of large, round glasses rested on his nose, and a hint of gold glinted from one of his teeth—a gold laminate adding a touch of eccentricity to his otherwise formal demeanor. Dressed in a simple black suit, he showed an air of seasoned confidence.

As we stepped inside, Mr. Choi glanced up, his sharp eyes assessing us briefly before softening into a cordial smile. "Ah, Mr. Kim," he greeted Haru warmly, setting the menu aside. "You're right on time."

Haru returned the smile, stepping forward to shake Mr. Choi's hand. "Of course, Mr. Choi. It's an honor to meet you again."

As they exchanged pleasantries, I quietly took a seat next to Haru. The room was calm, yet the weight of the meeting loomed heavily in the air for a while until the food was finally served and we began eating.

While we were still having lunch, the sharp trill of Haru's phone interrupted the quiet clatter of utensils. Haru glanced at the screen and stood up, a polite smile on his face. "Excuse me for a moment," he said, striding out of the room with his phone in hand. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with Mr. Choi.

I paused mid-bite, my appetite waning as unease settled in. My gaze remained fixed on the dish in front of me, the intricate arrangement of food now a blur. From the corner of my eye, I caught the faint curve of a smirk on Mr. Choi's lips. What's he smirking about? I wondered, swallowing hard.

The chair across from me scraped against the floor as Mr. Choi stood and moved over to Haru's vacant seat, settling beside me. The air around me grew heavier, more suffocating. Without warning, his left arm draped across my shoulders, making me flinch. I turned my head sharply to face him, my eyes were wide open in confusion.

"Sir... What are—"

"Are you interested in working for me instead of him?" he interrupted smoothly, a smug smile playing on his lips.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, my nerves prickling under his gaze. "I'm happy with my current position, Mr. Choi," I replied evenly, forcing calm into my voice despite the growing discomfort gnawing at me.

His hand slid from my shoulder to the side of my neck, his touch too familiar, too invasive. He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "I find you quite interesting. I could offer you a much better salary than Mr. Kim is paying you."

A cold shiver ran down my spine, the memory of old wounds resurfacing as his predatory demeanor stirred something I hadn't felt in years. I fought to keep my expression neutral, though my hands trembled faintly in my lap. This man... he reminds me of my cousins. I thought, paralyzed by his unwavering gaze.

I drew in a shallow breath and forced a smile to mask the dread rising within me. "I appreciate the offer, Mr. Choi," I said carefully, my voice measured, "but I'm satisfied with my current salary and position."

Every word felt like walking a tightrope, balancing between self-preservation and knowing the fact that upsetting him could jeopardize the project—and Haru's trust. My heart pounded in my chest as I silently prayed for Haru's return.

His right hand slid onto my lap, his fingers brushing against my thigh in a way that made my stomach churn. "Are you sure about turning down this offer?" His voice dripped with a sluggish tone that only deepened my nausea.

"I..." My throat tightened, and my words faltered. Frustration bubbled within me, my fists clenching under the table. Every instinct screamed at me to grab the nearest plate and smash it into his smug face. But I couldn't. Not here, not now. I had to control myself.

"What do you think you're doing, Mr. Choi?" Haru's sharp voice cut through the room like a blade, snapping me out of my spiraling thoughts. I turned my head toward the door, my heart leaping as I saw him striding toward us. His expression was dark with anger, his jaw set tightly.

Haru's hand gripped my upper arm firmly, pulling me up from my seat with protective force. I stumbled slightly, my nerves rattling as I tried to find my footing. Panic flared in my chest—I couldn't let this escalate. I glanced up at Haru, my voice trembling as I stammered, "Haru... Mr. Choi was just—"

"Get out and wait in the car for me," Haru interrupted, his voice cold and commanding.

Behind us, Mr. Choi let out a low, condescending laugh as he rose from his chair. "We were just having a friendly chat, Mr. Kim," he said smoothly, his words laced with mockery.

My gaze snapped at Mr. Choi, rage simmering beneath the surface. Son of a bitch... I thought, gritting my teeth as I held back the retort clawing at my throat.

"Myung." Haru's voice was stern, pulling my attention back to him. His dark eyes were fixed on mine, unwavering. "Go wait in the car. That's an order."

I hesitated, my lips parting to protest, but the weight of his expression silenced me. My shoulders sagged as I mumbled anxiously, "Okay... but don't do anything rash." I cast one last worried glance at Haru before walking out of the room, my legs shaky beneath me.

The cool night air hit my face as I exited the restaurant, but it did little to calm my pounding heart. Sliding into the passenger seat of Haru's car, I gripped the edges of my seat, trying to steady my trembling hands. My fingers felt like ice, and my chest ached with the erratic pounding of my heartbeat. I hope he won't do anything stupid because of me... I thought, the tension suffocating as I anxiously waited for Haru to return.

~

"Why the hell were you sitting there doing nothing?"

Haru's voice was low but laced with frustration as we stepped into his apartment. He hadn't spoken a word during the drive back. His silence was more unnerving than any outburst, and I didn't dare ask questions.

Standing in the middle of the living room, I watched as he pulled off his necktie and tossed it onto the floor in a sharp, angry motion. His piercing gaze met mine; his expression was hard. "Answer me, Myung."

"He's an important investor," I replied, keeping my voice calm despite the turmoil in my chest. "I couldn't just punch him in the face or something."

Haru let out a bitter, almost hysterical chuckle as he shrugged off his jacket and threw it onto the couch.

I shifted uncomfortably, clutching my notebook tightly in my hands. "What happened to the deal?" I asked hesitantly. "You didn't break it, did yo—Ugh!"

Before I could finish, Haru closed the distance between us, grabbing my arms tightly. His grip was firm, almost painful, and his intense gaze burned into mine.

"So you're telling me," he growled, his voice trembling with restrained anger, "you'd let anyone harass or rape you just because they're an investor?"

"It wasn't that serious!" I snapped back, scowling. "What could I have done when Lee Sora specifically told me we needed him?!"

"I don't give a sh*t about that deal if it costs something like this!" Haru's grip tightened, making me wince as he stared at me fiercely. "Weren't you the one who told me how much you hated being touched by other men? And now you're saying, 'It wasn't that serious'? I fuckin' hate it whenever you say this! Do you have any idea how much I... how much I tried—" His words faltered, his voice cracking as his gaze softened, focusing on my bewildered expression.

"Tried what?" I asked quietly, my confusion evident as I furrowed my brows.

Haru froze, his grip loosening. He averted his eyes and turned away from me, running his hands through his hair in frustration. "Forget about it..." he muttered under his breath.

He let out a long, weary sigh and rubbed his face with his palms before speaking again, his tone softer but resolute. "Just don't do that again. Next time, punch them in the face if they try anything, and I'll deal with the consequences. Got it?"

Without waiting for a response, Haru walked toward the bathroom, shutting the door behind him with a resounding click.

What was he talking about?

The question echoed in my mind as I slumped down onto the couch, lying on my right side and setting my notebook on the floor. The sound of the shower running in the bathroom filled the room as I closed my eyes, letting out a long exhale. The tension that had gripped my body slowly began to dissolve, leaving behind a heavy exhaustion that I couldn't shake.

~

When I opened my eyes, I instinctively sensed a gaze on me, realizing I was no longer on the couch but on Haru's bed. He was sitting beside me, his knees drawn up to his chest and his forearms resting casually on top. His face was unreadable in the dim light, and his dark eyes seemed to study me intently.

I blinked a few times, flexing my stiff muscles. "What time is it?" I asked, my voice groggy and low.

"Around two in the morning," Haru replied in an equally quiet tone.

"What?!" I sat up abruptly, startled. "I slept that long?" I glanced down at myself, confused. I hadn't even remembered changing clothes. But then I noticed I was wearing pajamas—Haru's, to be precise. Oh...

"I figured you'd be uncomfortable sleeping in your suit," Haru explained calmly, his tone betraying no emotion.

Heat rose to my cheeks as I stiffened. He changed my clothes? "Thanks," I murmured awkwardly, lying back down on my side to avoid his gaze. "Why are you still awake?" I asked, genuinely curious, as I pulled the blanket up slightly.

Haru leaned his head back against the headboard, letting out a soft sigh. "Couldn't sleep," he said simply, his voice carrying a distant note that made me glance at him.

"If you're uncomfortable, I can sleep on the couch," I offered, my voice tentative as I shifted slightly to sit up.

"That's not it, you dumbass." Haru chuckled quietly, the corners of his mouth lifting ever so slightly. Reaching over, he tugged the blanket over my head. "Go back to sleep."

I pulled the blanket down, letting it rest in my lap, and glanced over at him again. Haru had already lay down and turned onto his side, his back facing me. Something about his silence gnawed at me, and before I could stop myself, I spoke. "Haru," I said softly. "About what you said earlier... I think there's a misunderstanding between us."

"I told you to forget about it," he replied, his tone steady but laced with an undertone of reluctance.

"You were talking about what I said at my cousin's wedding, right? Were you avoiding me because of that back then?" I asked, not wanting us to keep things swept under the rug. Haru must have felt that I would eventually come to hate him if he stayed close to me. He's always been an affectionate person who enjoys simple physical contact with his friends. I might have scared him off with what I said back then.

However, I've always liked Haru the way he is, without suppressing himself. As Haru remained silent, I continued, "When I said I felt disgusted, I meant them—my cousins—not you. I've never been bothered by your touch, Haru, because..." I paused, feeling my chest tighten slightly, "because I feel safe around you."

He won't feel the need to walk on eggshells around me if I make things clear. I don't want any awkwardness lingering between us. I want us to go back to how we used to be in our high school days—comfortable, carefree, and without any tension.

The words hung in the air, heavier than I expected. I took another deep breath and added, "You're like my family, you know?"

The quiet stretched out for what felt like an eternity. I stared at his back, nervous. Had I said too much? Did I make things worse?

Finally, Haru shifted. "Family, you say?" he murmured, the words barely audible. Slowly, he turned to face me, his eyes half-lidded but intense. Reaching out, he cupped the side of my face, his touch warm and deliberate. His gaze searched mine as if looking for something. "You're... so oblivious," he whispered, almost like he was speaking to himself.

Backing away slightly, Haru let his hand fall and closed his eyes, the faintest smirk ghosting his lips. Another murmur escaped, almost too soft to catch, "What should I do with you?"

Ironically, I was truly oblivious—or maybe I chose to be.

It amazes me now, looking back, how I failed to see what was right in front of me, dismissing it so easily, brushing it aside like it was nothing.

Maybe this is all my fault...

Perhaps I shaped him into who he's become...

All because of my ignorance, my foolish, unforgivable cluelessness.