10:42 P.M. – Still at His Desk
Clark's stomach grumbled for the fifth time.
He tried to ignore it.
He had bigger problems — like the giant pile of files on his desk that had magically multiplied over the last few hours.
All because Diablo Von Bloodick decided to review the afternoon reports and say five terrifying words:
> "These need to be redone. All of them."
Clark had stared at him, blinking. "B-but sir… I double-checked everything—"
> "Double-check them again."
He wanted to argue. He wanted to shout, "These are correct! You just want me to suffer!"
But instead, he nodded, turned around, and returned to his desk.
Because he valued his job.
And his life.
---
11:30 P.M. – Buried in Work
Clark stared at the same contract paragraph for the third time, his eyes crossing.
He hadn't eaten dinner.
He hadn't even stood up in the last two hours.
There were coffee cups on his desk. Empty ones. And post-its. Everywhere.
He tried to keep working, but his hands were shaking.
Still… he pushed on.
Until eventually—
His head dropped onto his folded arms.
His breathing slowed.
And Clark Evernight — the intern, the assistant, the survivor of corporate chaos — finally fell asleep at his desk, surrounded by highlighters and legal documents.
---
1:05 A.M. – CEO's Office, Just Across the Hall
Diablo Von Bloodick sat in the cold silence of his private office, going over another strategic report.
He didn't need sleep. Not like others did.
Still… something tugged at him.
A lingering question.
A face.
A smile — not directed at him.
Directed at Hakuro.
His cousin.
His rival, in more ways than one.
Diablo's fingers paused over the keyboard.
Then, quietly, he stood.
He walked out of his office and toward the assistant's corner.
No sound. Just the soft, rhythmic tapping of his shoes against the marble floor.
---
1:07 A.M. – Diablo's POV
The hallway was dim, lit only by the flickering emergency lights.
I turned the corner and saw him.
Clark.
He was slumped over his desk, fast asleep, mouth slightly open, arms folded like a pillow.
His hair was messy, strands falling over his eyes. His glasses were askew. One sticky note was stuck to his sleeve.
The mountain of paperwork I had dumped on him was still untouched in the corner.
He never even made it to the second stack.
I stepped closer.
He didn't stir.
Even in sleep, he looked exhausted.
…Why?
Why did I do this?
I told him the reports were wrong.
They weren't.
I knew that.
But I did it anyway.
I wanted to keep him here.
No—no, not wanted. I needed him here.
Why?
I watched his chest rise and fall slowly.
His lips were slightly parted. His fingers still clutching a pen.
There was something strange in my chest.
Something tight.
Unsettling.
This wasn't like before.
This wasn't irritation.
It wasn't boredom.
This… was something else.
I leaned in slightly, studying his face.
Peaceful.
Vulnerable.
He didn't know I was here. Didn't feel me watching.
And still… he looked calm.
As if this place — my presence — didn't scare him anymore.
I didn't like that.
…Or maybe, I did.
Just for a moment, I reached out.
My hand hovered near his face.
Not touching.
Just… close.
His warmth radiated toward me. Gentle. Soft.
So human.
So fragile.
So different from me.
I should've left.
But I didn't.
I stayed there longer than I should have, staring.
At him.
At the confusing calm I felt.
---
1:10 A.M. – Outside the Assistant's Desk
Footsteps echoed from the end of the hall.
Diablo turned sharply, retreating into the shadows before anyone could see him.
He stood silently, watching from behind the wall.
Zara, the night shift receptionist, passed by, holding coffee for the other staff.
She didn't notice the sleeping Clark.
Or the vampire watching in silence.