May 30th.
No reminders.
But both of them wake up aware.
Rayden checks the date once on his phone.
Just once.
Expression unreadable.
Across the table at breakfast, Smyle is unusually quiet.
Rayden notices.
Of course he does.
He says nothing.
8:12 AM
Smyle walks into Rayden's office holding coffee.
Casual.
Too casual.
He sets the cup down.
"Morning."
"Morning," Rayden replies, not looking up from his tablet.
A beat.
Smyle shifts his weight.
"So…"
Rayden continues scrolling.
"So?" he echoes calmly.
Smyle clears his throat.
"Congratulations."
Rayden finally looks up.
"For?"
Smyle blinks innocently.
"For surviving one year of me."
Silence.
Rayden stares.
Then slowly leans back in his chair.
"…Ah."
There it is.
"You remembered," Rayden says.
Smyle folds his arms. "I have basic memory retention."
Rayden studies him carefully.
"You said it first."
Smyle frowns slightly. "And?"
Rayden's lips twitch.
"Aww."
Smyle narrows his eyes. "Don't."
Rayden continues calmly.
"Do you have a secret crush on me or something?"
Dead silence.
Smyle stares at him like he just committed a crime.
"What?"
Rayden shrugs lightly.
"You wished first. That's usually how these things go."
Smyle scoffs. "Oh please. If I had a crush on you, I would not be this calm."
Rayden raises an eyebrow.
"So there would be signs?"
Smyle immediately regrets phrasing.
"You're twisting this."
Rayden stands slowly, walking around the desk.
"Am I?" he asks lightly.
Smyle doesn't step back.
They've gotten used to this distance.
Close.
But not charged.
Just… challenging.
"You look suspiciously invested in this anniversary," Rayden continues.
"It's a date," Smyle replies. "Dates exist."
"Important dates?"
Smyle shrugs. "We signed a contract. It's legally historic."
Rayden hums thoughtfully.
"So you're commemorating paperwork."
"Yes."
"How romantic."
Smyle glares. "It's not romantic."
Rayden smiles faintly.
"Good."
A pause.
Then Rayden adds:
"Because if you were secretly in love with me, that would complicate my schedule."
Smyle chokes on air.
"You are unbelievable."
Rayden leans slightly closer.
"But flattering," he adds quietly.
Smyle folds his arms again.
"You're the one smiling."
"I am not smiling."
"You are."
"I am observing."
Smyle shakes his head.
"You enjoy this too much."
Rayden doesn't deny it.
MIDDAY — ESCALATION
Smyle texts him later:
Happy one-year contractual tolerance, Mr. Black.
Rayden replies:
Should I prepare a commemorative plaque?
Smyle:
Maybe a medal. For patience.
Rayden:
For mine?
Smyle:
Obviously.
Rayden:
Delusional.
Smyle smiles at his phone.
Rayden reads that message twice before locking his screen.
EVENING — SUBTLE PAYBACK
Smyle walks into the living room.
Stops.
On the table is a small box. simple.
He looks toward Rayden.
"What's this?"
Rayden doesn't look up from his laptop.
"Anniversary gift."
Smyle blinks.
"You said it wasn't romantic."
"It isn't."
Suspicious.
Smyle opens it.
Inside—
A sleek silver pen.
Engraved:
S. Black
— 1 Year of Surviving R. Black
Smyle stares.
Then laughs.
"You're insufferable."
Rayden finally looks up.
"But amused."
Smyle holds up the pen.
"This is your way of acknowledging today?"
Rayden tilts his head slightly.
"You wished first."
"So?"
"So I responded."
Smyle narrows his eyes.
"You were going to ignore it."
Rayden pauses.
Just slightly.
Then:
"No."
Smyle watches him carefully.
"You remembered."
Rayden closes the laptop.
"Of course I did."
Simple.
Not sentimental. Just factual.
A quiet beat passes.
Then Smyle grins.
"Still think I have a crush?"
Rayden stands, stepping closer.
"That depends."
"On what?"
"On whether you keep looking pleased like that."
Smyle scoffs.
"You're projecting."
Rayden smirks faintly.
"Perhaps."
They stand there.
Comfortable.
Not lovers.
Not strangers.
Just two people who know exactly what they're doing.
And pretending they don't.
The teasing had faded.
Not disappeared.
Just… paused.
Rayden stood near the window after the call ended, phone still in his hand.
Smyle was watching him carefully now.
The air felt different.
Earlier it had been light. Playful.
Now it felt structured.
Like walls had gone back up.
"You have that look again," Smyle said casually.
Rayden didn't turn. "What look?"
"The 'I'm about to conquer something or kill something' look."
A beat.
"I'm attending a meeting," Rayden replied calmly.
"Same thing," Smyle muttered.
Rayden finally turned.
His expression was composed.
Too composed.
"I'll be out most of tomorrow," he said. "You have the charity board review at eleven. The driver will take you."
So that's how he was handling it.
Schedules.
Logistics.
Distance.
Smyle crossed his arms. "With your dad?"
Rayden adjusted his cufflinks.
"Yes."
Nothing more.
No emotion attached to the word.
Just a fact.
Smyle studied him.
"You didn't seem thrilled."
Rayden gave him a flat look.
"I don't schedule meetings based on thrill."
"Wow. That sounds exhausting."
"It's efficient."
Smyle tilted his head.
"Is he difficult?"
Rayden's gaze sharpened slightly.
"All negotiations require preparation."
That wasn't an answer.
And Smyle knew it.
But he didn't push.
Because something about Rayden right now said:
Not tonight.
So instead he leaned back against the table.
"Fine," Smyle said lightly. "Try not to terrify him too much."
Rayden's mouth twitched faintly.
"He is not easily terrified."
"Challenge accepted then."
Rayden picked up his laptop again.
Conversation closed.
Just like that.
LATER — 1:07 AM
The penthouse was quiet.
Too quiet.
Smyle walked past the office and saw the light still on.
Of course.
He didn't knock this time.
Just leaned against the doorframe.
"You're overthinking," Smyle said.
"I'm preparing."
"For a meeting with your father."
"Yes."
Smyle watched him for a moment.
Rayden's posture was perfect.
Back straight.
Shoulders squared.
Face unreadable.
But his fingers?
They'd been tapping the desk rhythmically for the past thirty seconds.
That was new.
Smyle noticed everything.
"You remembered the anniversary before I said it, didn't you?" Smyle asked suddenly.
Rayden paused.
Just slightly.
"Yes."
Smyle smirked.
"So you were waiting for me to say it first."
Rayden looked up slowly.
"I was observing."
"That's worse."
"It's strategic."
Smyle laughed softly.
"There you go again. Turning everything into war."
Rayden held his gaze.
"Not everything."
A small silence stretched between them.
Almost comfortable.
Almost something else.
Smyle pushed off the doorframe.
"Don't stay up too late, Mr. Black. You don't want your father thinking you look tired."
Rayden's eyes darkened faintly at that.
"I don't concern myself with his perceptions."
Smyle hummed.
"Sure."
He walked away.
But before disappearing down the hall, he added casually:
"Still. Good luck tomorrow."
Rayden didn't respond immediately.
Then—
"Thank you."
Soft.
Almost automatic.
Smyle didn't comment on it.
MORNING — 6:40 AM
Rayden was already dressed.
Dark suit.
Immaculate.
Sharp enough to cut through silence.
He adjusted his watch in the mirror.
Expression neutral.
No trace of last night.
Smyle walked into the kitchen half-awake, hair messy.
Stopped when he saw him.
"Well. Someone looks like he's attending a funeral."
Rayden didn't miss a beat.
"Your observational skills need refinement."
Smyle grabbed coffee.
"It's too early for corporate sarcasm."
Rayden picked up his coat.
"Don't wait up."
Smyle blinked.
"…I wasn't planning to?"
Rayden stepped closer to the door.
Then paused.
Just briefly.
Not turning around.
"Lock the balcony doors tonight," he said. "Security rotation changes at midnight."
Practical.
Controlled.
Nothing emotional.
Smyle rolled his eyes lightly.
"Yes, Dad."
Rayden glanced at him sharply.
Smyle immediately raised his hands.
"Relax. Bad joke."
A beat.
Rayden opened the door.
"Have a productive day, Smyle."
"Try not to start a war."
No response to that.
The door closed.
The penthouse felt bigger suddenly.
Quieter.
Smyle stood there for a second.
Staring at the closed door.
Something about the way Rayden left felt different.
As if he was walking into something that had already wounded him once.
Smyle shook the thought away.
"Anniversary mood ruined," he muttered.
But somewhere deep down, he knew—
That meeting wasn't just business.
And whatever came back through that door tonight…
Might not be the same version of Rayden that left.