Olivia Bennett stood near the window, her reflection faintly mirrored in the glass, the city lights flickering like distant fireflies behind her. The soft hum of the air conditioner filled the silence that hung between her and Aiden Ashford.
He was standing a few feet away, his hands in his pockets, eyes trained on her with an unreadable expression. She met his gaze for a second, then quickly looked away, pretending to fix the strap of her bag.
Neither of them said anything for a moment.
Aiden exhaled slowly, his jaw tightening slightly as his thoughts wandered. How did we end up like this?
He pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a quiet sigh.
A while ago—
After the meeting with Han Daejin, they'd been exhausted, both running on caffeine and stubborn professionalism. When they reached the hotel and found out that Claire had accidentally booked only one room, they both tried to fix the situation immediately.
But the answer they get was this. "I'm very sorry, sir, but all our rooms are occupied. It's peak tourist season. Other nearby hotels are also fully booked."
They tried calling two other hotels nearby, but both gave the same response: no vacancy.
Finally, Aiden had looked at Olivia, his eyes softening despite the clear fatigue on his face.
"It seems we don't have much of a choice."
And so, they'd done the only logical thing left—share the one room that Claire had booked.
Now, standing inside that very room, the silence felt heavy, stretching thin between them. The suite was simple yet elegant—muted cream walls, a queen-sized bed draped in crisp white linen, a soft beige sofa by the window, two chairs by a small round table, and a dark wooden nightstand. There was also a closet beside the bathroom door, large enough to fit both their luggage.
But the real issue stood right in front of them—the single bed.
Olivia's eyes landed on it and then flicked toward Aiden. Their gazes met briefly before she looked away again, exhaling softly.
"Well," she muttered under her breath, "this is… awkward."
Aiden's lips twitched in what might have been amusement, but his tone stayed even. "It's fine. I'll take the sofa."
Olivia frowned. "You're taller. You'll barely fit."
"I'll manage," he said simply, shrugging off his jacket and setting it on a chair.
Olivia hesitated for a moment before sighing. "I can take the sofa. I don't mind."
Aiden looked at her, that familiar calm yet commanding look in his eyes—the one that always ended arguments in the office before they could begin. "Olivia, it's fine. Go freshen up."
He wasn't wrong. Her body was screaming for rest. So instead of arguing, she picked up her suitcase and walked toward the closet, pulling out a fresh pair of clothes. She just needed a shower, maybe ten minutes under hot water to clear her mind.
"Fine," she said, not looking at him as she moved toward the bathroom.
The sound of running water soon filled the room as Olivia disappeared into the bathroom. Aiden loosened his tie, unbuttoning the first two buttons of his shirt. The soft click of the water hitting tile was strangely soothing after such a long day.
He dropped onto the edge of the bed, resting his elbows on his knees, rubbing the back of his neck. What a day. The meeting, the jet lag, the mix-up—all of it. And now, sharing a room with Olivia.
He looked around the room again—at the soft light from the bedside lamp, the muted hum of the city below, the faint scent of lavender air freshener mixed with Olivia's perfume that still lingered in the air. Clean, crisp, and oddly comforting.
When Olivia finally stepped out of the bathroom, steam following her like a ghostly veil, she looked softer—her hair damp and slightly messy, her face fresh without makeup, wearing an oversized white T-shirt and grey joggers.
Aiden's gaze flickered briefly toward her before he quickly looked away, clearing his throat. "Feel better?"
"Much," she said, setting her towel aside. "Your turn."
He nodded, grabbing his own clothes and slipping past her into the bathroom without another word. The faint scent of his cologne followed him, crisp and warm—something expensive and subtle that seemed too much like him.
Olivia exhaled slowly, then walked toward the sofa. She picked up one of the extra duvets from the closet—thankfully the hotel had provided two—and a pillow from the bed. The sofa was long enough for her to stretch out, and since she wasn't tall, it worked just fine.
The moment her head hit the pillow, her body gave in. The fatigue from travel, the meeting, the mental exhaustion—it all crashed over her like a wave. Her eyelids grew heavy, and before she knew it, the world blurred away.
A few minutes later, Aiden emerged from the bathroom, towel in hand, wearing a black T-shirt and dark joggers. His hair was damp, the strands at his temples still glistening. He ran the towel through his hair once more before tossing it onto a chair.
The first thing he saw was Olivia—fast asleep on the sofa.
He frowned slightly, setting the towel aside. "Olivia?" he called softly.
No response.
He took a few slow steps closer. Her breathing was even, her features relaxed. A soft lock of hair had fallen across her cheek, and she was clutching the edge of the duvet as if holding onto it for comfort.
Aiden crouched down beside her, his voice low. "Olivia."
Still nothing.
He exhaled, shaking his head with a faint, tired smile tugging at his lips. "You never listen, do you?"
For a moment, he just sat there, watching her sleep. She looked peaceful, nothing like the sharp, collected assistant who always had an answer, always kept her composure. There was something about this quiet version of her that made something in his chest tighten unexpectedly.
He sighed again, then carefully slipped his arms under her. One beneath her knees, the other behind her back.
She stirred as he lifted her, her head lolling against his chest. Aiden froze, waiting. Her eyelashes fluttered slightly, and then—she shifted closer to him, mumbling something unintelligible before settling again.
He looked down at her, a rare softness flickering in his eyes. "Of course," he whispered, half amused. "Even asleep, you make this complicated."
He carried her to the bed with quiet steps, careful not to wake her. The soft rustle of sheets filled the room as he lowered her gently onto the mattress. Her fingers brushed against his arm before falling away as she rolled to the side, hugging the pillow tightly.
Aiden stood there for a moment, just looking at her. The corners of his mouth curved slightly as he whispered, "You'd probably argue about this in the morning."
He tugged the blanket up to her shoulders and tucked her in, making sure she was warm. Then he stepped back, pulling in a quiet breath before turning toward the sofa.
He lay down, realizing quickly what she meant earlier—the sofa was definitely too short for him. His feet hung slightly over the edge, and the armrest dug into his shoulder when he tried to turn.
He shifted once, twice, before finally finding a spot that was just tolerable. His head rested on the pillow she had used, faintly carrying her scent. It was distracting—but not unpleasant.
As he closed his eyes, the exhaustion of the day finally caught up to him.
Through half-lidded eyes, he glanced once more at the bed. She was still asleep, her breathing slow and steady.
He smiled faintly to himself. "You're impossible, Bennett," he murmured under his breath.
The city lights filtered through the sheer curtains, casting soft shadows across the room. The faint hum of distant traffic filled the quiet night.
And somewhere between the exhaustion, the quiet laughter that never left his lips, and the faint scent of lavender in the air—Aiden Ashford drifted to sleep.