James wasn't sure what he expected when he looked up at Elna's office again, but it wasn't this silence.
The door had closed a few minutes ago. Not slammed. Not hurried. Just… clicked. Soft. Controlled. But even from across the floor, something about it didn't feel right.
Because right before that sound, he saw Neby Brohem walk out.
Unbothered. Composed.
Smiling.
That smile—it lingered like the scent of a fire that had just been put out. It wasn't the grin of a person who had just attended a status meeting.
No.
It was the kind of smile people wear when they leave something unfinished, but satisfying.
James had felt a chill then. Something primal. Protective. And it scared him how quickly his fists clenched.
Not because Neby was a director. But because Elna's face at that moment didn't match Neby's smile at all.
She hadn't moved. She didn't lift her gaze. She looked like she was trying to breathe through smoke.
And that—that stayed with him.
He turned slightly in his seat. The others had gone back to their work as if nothing had happened, but James couldn't.
Not after that.
A soft beep pulled him from his thoughts. Aresy's voice, smooth and efficient, hummed through his earpiece.
"James, Elna has authorized your access to the central resource file. Are you ready to proceed with the cross-reference inputs?"
James blinked, sat up straighter, then stood. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm on it."
As he headed toward the server room, the voice continued—except now, Aresy's tone had shifted just slightly.
"She's not herself today."
He paused.
"You noticed too?" he asked quietly.
"Of course I did. My algorithms detected elevated physiological stress levels from her behavioral patterns. But I didn't mention it."
James frowned, hand hovering over the keypad.
"Why?"
A pause.
"Because sometimes, humans don't want their pain acknowledged. They just want someone to see it… and stay anyway."
That hit harder than it should have.
James entered the passcode and slipped into the quiet hum of the room.
The lights were dimmer here, and the air was cooler. But his thoughts were burning.
He hadn't known Elna long, but in those few weeks, she'd become more than a senior officer or project lead. She was precise, demanding, brilliant—and surprisingly, kind in the quietest of ways.
She never praised. Never coddled.
But once, when he had stayed up until midnight fixing a memory loop, she had simply left a thermos of warm tea on his desk with a yellow sticky note: "Next time, fix it before it breaks."
He had smiled like an idiot all day.
Now… that same woman seemed like she was unraveling from something she refused to name.
And he hated it.
Not because he wanted to fix her.
But because for the first time in his life, he wanted someone else's storm to calm, just so they could breathe again.
Late Evening – The Day Before the Board Meeting
The office had emptied. Desks cleared. Screens dark. Elevators hummed at the far end, carrying tired engineers down to the lobby.
But James remained.
He sat at his terminal, a few feet from Elna's office, pretending to scroll through last-minute revisions.
He wasn't very good at pretending.
The lights inside her office were still on. Faint. cool. Like she didn't want to draw attention to herself, but also couldn't stand being left in the dark. Aresy's interface blinked once at his wrist.
"You're still here, James."
He smirked softly. "You noticed."
"So did she."
James looked up again—Elna's silhouette moved slightly in her chair, as if she'd just finished a deep breath but didn't want anyone to see it.
He stood, hesitating for half a second. Then he walked.
He didn't knock—just paused at the door until Elna noticed him.
She looked up slowly, brow raised, her voice even.
"You need something?"
"No." He offered a small shrug. "Just… thought I'd check in. Since the board meeting's tomorrow. Big day."
She looked at him- expression unreadable.
"Not nervous, are you? It's your first meeting after you are appointed my assistant. Everyone is looking forward to seeing how efficient you are," she asked, trying for a joke—but it didn't land right. Her voice was too tired. Too quiet.
James offered a small smile. "Not about the board."
A pause. "But I am… about you."
That caught her off guard.
Elna looked away, stood up, paced once behind her chair before facing him again.
"I'm fine," she said.
Another lie.
"You keep saying that," James replied, softer this time. "But you're not even convincing Aresy anymore."
Elna didn't answer. The silence between them stretched like a held breath.
James looked at her, not like the others did. Not with admiration or fear or competition.
But with gentleness. With something careful.
"You don't have to tell me," he said. "I'm not asking you to. I just… wanted to be around, in case you needed someone to talk to."
That hit something in her chest.
Not hard. Just enough to shake a thread loose.
She folded her arms tightly, still trying to hold herself together.
"You really think I'm that kind of person who talks when something's wrong?"
James shook his head. "No. I think you're the kind who works until something breaks."
Her eyes flicked to his. He saw it then—that flicker of something confused. Not anger. Not annoyance.
Vulnerability.
"You don't know what you're talking about," she said softly. But it wasn't denial. Not really.
He stepped back, giving her space.
"Maybe not," he said. "But I'm still here."
He lingered at the threshold for a moment longer, then turned to leave.
Just before the door closed behind him, she spoke.
"James."
He stopped.
"Thanks," she said.
Simple. Small.
But it was the first honest word she'd spoken all day.