His back is broad and surprisingly warm. I feel myself sinking into his shoulder, like my body knows it's safe here—drunk or not.
"Mia, are you enjoying it?" he asks teasingly.
That joke pulls me back to reality, if only a little.
I straighten up and slap his back lightly.
"Are you kidding me? Put me down, now."
"I was kidding," he chuckles.
His laugh is low and genuine. It's warm—unlike the usual sarcastic edge he throws at me.
And for a second, I want to melt into his back all over again.
I rest my chin on his shoulder, letting out a breath.
I'm still drunk, but I'm aware enough to know this: I'm on Ben's back… and I actually like it.
"Why didn't you let Kevin take me home?" I ask softly. "We're not even that close. You didn't have to."
He walks calmly, answering without hesitation.
"You looked uncomfortable." Then he pauses. "Or… did you want to go with him?"
"No way," I say quickly. "Can you imagine the gossip?
'Assistant taken home by new department head'?
I'd never hear the end of it."
"What about us, then?" he says. "You don't think they'll talk?
'Senior designer carries assistant home on his back'—sounds even worse."
He has a point. But somehow, that doesn't bother me as much.
Before I can answer, he stops.
"We're here. My car."
He opens the door and helps me in, guiding me carefully.
Once inside, I sit still, staring blankly at the dashboard, the buzz of alcohol dulling everything except the weird thump in my chest.
Ben glances at me, his expression unreadable.
Then, slowly, he leans in—close enough that I feel the warmth of his breath brush against my cheek.
I freeze.
He reaches past me, his arm brushing mine, and gently pulls the seatbelt across my chest.
The click echoes in the quiet car.
"There," he says softly, sitting back in his seat. "Safety first."
My heart is pounding way louder than it should.
Without hesitation he asks, "Alright, where's your house?"
"Huh? Ah… it's just over there. Near the corner," I mumble, still in shock.
He raises an eyebrow and smirks.
"Where exactly 'over there'? I live near the corner too. Maybe you just want to come to my place?"
I stare at him, wide-eyed.
He bursts into laughter. "I'm kidding! Jay texted me your address. Relax."
I turn away quickly.
This is the first time Ben and I are alone together.
It's awkward.
And somehow, still... comfortable.
_________________________________________________
Thank God it's the weekend.
My head still spins from all the soju I downed last night, but somehow, every detail from that evening is clear.
"Have a good night, Mia."
Those were the last words Ben said before I closed the car door.
Soft. Warm. Gentle.
A version of Ben I'd never seen before—no teasing, no sarcasm. Just… him. Quiet, sincere.
It lingers in my mind longer than I want it to.
*Ding.*
A message lights up my phone screen. It's from Jella.
"Mia, did you get home safe?
If I'd known Ben was the one who brought you, I wouldn't have let him! 😤
I was too drunk to realize anything, and it was Jay who told me after.
I literally screamed at him and punched him in the head!! 😭👊"
Wait… why does she sound so upset? Why wouldn't she want Ben to take me home?
I tap her name and call.
"Hello? Jella?" I try to keep my voice steady—curious, but calm.
"MIAAA! Huhuhu are you okay?!" she cries dramatically. "Tell me nothing happened! Ben didn't do anything to you, right?!"
"What? No!" I say, taken aback. "He didn't do anything. He just took me home, waited outside until I got in safely, and left. That's it."
She pauses. "Oh... really?"
"Yeah." I hesitate. "Why did you sound so freaked out in your message? You said it like Ben would actually… do something. Is there something I should know?"
Jella exhales like she's been waiting for me to ask.
"So… you really don't know?"
"Know what?" My stomach tightens.
"There's a rumor about Ben going around the office," she says cautiously.
"What kind of rumor?" My heart climbs into my throat.
"They say Ben's not exactly… serious with women." She hesitates. "Like he flirts, dates them, and then—poof—gone. Leaves them hanging."
A cold silence wraps around me.
Ben? That Ben?
The one who carried me like I mattered? The one who didn't even cross the door?
My lips part, but no words come out.
"I'm not saying it's true, okay?" Jella adds quickly. "But… just be careful, okay?" she says gently.
"Yeah…" I murmur. "Thanks, Jella."
We hang up.
Right when I start to trust him—right when I begin to notice things I shouldn't—this comes crashing in.
Should I believe the rumor…
…or ask him myself?
I don't know why…
but part of me really wants to know the truth.
And maybe—just maybe—
this changes everything I thought I knew about him.