Mira's POV
The office felt different at night.
Quieter.
Almost… unreal.
Most of the lights were off.
Only a few sections remained lit—soft, dim, enough to keep the space from falling into complete darkness.
And somehow—
I was still here.
"…why am I still here…"
I looked down at the documents in front of me.
The new project.
His project.
"No mistakes."
"Do it right."
His voice echoed in my mind.
"…I will…"
I whispered softly to myself.
Not because I had to.
But because I wanted to.
Because it mattered.
More than it should.
A small sigh left my lips as I leaned back slightly.
My eyes felt tired.
But my mind—
was wide awake.
"…focus…"
I picked up the pen again.
Tried to continue.
Failed.
"…just one minute…"
I rested my head lightly against my hand.
Closed my eyes—
just for a second.
"You're slowing down."
My eyes opened instantly.
My heart skipped.
That voice.
Low.
Close.
Too close.
I turned.
And there he was.
Azael.
Standing right beside my desk.
I didn't hear him come in.
"…sir…"
My voice came out softer than usual.
Again.
Always.
"Why are you still here?"
"…I wanted to finish it…"
A pause.
"…properly."
His gaze lingered on me.
Then shifted to the documents.
"You're not efficient when tired."
"…I'm fine…"
"You're not."
The answer came immediately.
Firm.
Certain.
I looked down slightly.
"…I can complete it…"
Silence.
Then—
"Stand up."
I blinked.
"…what…?"
"Stand."
I stood.
Without questioning.
Without thinking.
Because somehow—
when he said something like that—
my body listened before my mind did.
Azael moved closer.
Just one step.
But it felt like more.
A lot more.
"…sir…?"
He reached past me.
His hand brushing slightly against the edge of the desk—
and for a brief second—
too close to me.
I froze.
Not because I was scared.
But because—
I noticed it.
The proximity.
The warmth.
The way my heart reacted.
Fast.
Too fast.
He picked up the file.
Flipped through it.
Silently.
Critically.
"…this section."
His voice was low.
Focused.
"Incorrect."
I stepped closer unconsciously.
"…where…?"
"Here."
He pointed.
I leaned slightly to see—
And that's when it happened.
Too close.
Again.
Closer than before.
My shoulder almost brushed his arm.
I could feel his presence.
Clearly.
"…I see…"
My voice dropped.
Soft.
Barely above a whisper.
Why does it feel like this…
The air felt heavier.
Quieter.
Like even sound didn't want to interrupt.
"You're rushing."
His voice was right there.
Near.
"…I didn't mean to…"
"You're thinking too much."
I paused.
"…am I…?"
"Yes."
A beat of silence.
"…then what should I do…?"
Azael's gaze shifted.
From the file.
To me.
Direct.
Steady.
"Stop."
My breath caught.
"…stop…?"
"Thinking."
I blinked.
"…I don't know how to do that…"
A small pause.
Then—
"Then listen."
My fingers tightened slightly.
"…to what…?"
Azael held my gaze.
And for a moment—
everything else disappeared.
"Me."
My heart reacted instantly.
Loud.
Uncontrolled.
Why—
why does that feel—
"…okay…"
The word came out without resistance.
Without hesitation.
And I didn't question it.
Not even a little.
---
He moved.
Pulled a chair beside mine.
Sat down.
Close.
Not distant.
Not formal.
Close.
"Sit."
I sat.
Again.
Right next to him.
Too aware.
Too conscious.
"…this is not normal…"
But I didn't move away.
Didn't want to.
"…why…"
He took the pen from my hand.
Effortlessly.
Naturally.
Like it belonged there.
"Watch."
I did.
Focused on the paper.
Trying not to focus on anything else.
"…his hand…"
"…the way he writes…"
"…why am I noticing this…"
"This line."
His voice broke my thoughts.
"Rewrite it."
"…like this…?"
"Yes."
I followed.
Carefully.
Precisely.
"Again."
I adjusted.
"Better."
A small warmth spread in my chest.
"…he said better…"
"…why does that matter…"
Time passed.
Quietly.
No unnecessary words.
No distractions.
Just—
him guiding.
Me following.
Simple.
But not simple.
Because every small movement—
felt amplified.
His presence.
Too close.
His voice.
Too steady.
My heart.
Too loud.
---
"…done."
I whispered softly.
Not sure when I stopped feeling tired.
Not sure when I stopped thinking about leaving.
He looked at the file.
Closed it.
"Acceptable."
My lips curved slightly.
"…thank you…"
Silence.
Then—
"Why are you smiling?"
I froze.
"…I…"
Why am I smiling…
"…I don't know…"
Honest.
Again.
Always.
Azael's gaze didn't move.
"You do."
My heart slowed slightly.
"…maybe…"
A pause.
"…because I did it right…"
"No."
I blinked.
"…then…?"
Azael leaned slightly closer.
Just enough.
Not touching.
But close enough to feel it.
"To please me."
My breath stopped.
Everything—
stopped.
"…I…"
I couldn't answer.
Because—
was that true?
I didn't know.
But it didn't feel wrong.
And that scared me.
A little.
"…I just wanted to do well…"
Azael watched me.
Quiet.
Unreadable.
Then—
"Good."
He stood.
Just like that.
Breaking the moment.
Breaking the closeness.
But leaving something behind.
Something that didn't go away.
"…you're done for today."
"…yes…"
I stood slowly.
Still processing.
Still feeling…
something.
I couldn't name.
---
I walked toward the exit.
Then stopped.
Turned back.
"…sir…"
He didn't look at me immediately.
"…thank you…"
A pause.
"…for helping me…"
Silence.
Then—
"Don't thank me."
His voice was lower now.
Quieter.
"Just don't forget."
My heart skipped.
"…forget what…?"
Azael's gaze finally met mine.
Deep.
Steady.
Unavoidable.
"Who you listen to."
And just like that—
I understood.
Not completely.
Not clearly.
But enough.
"…okay…"
---
I stepped out.
The night air felt cooler.
But my face felt warm.
My chest—
strange.
"…why does it feel like…"
I paused.
"…I'm being pulled…"
Not forced.
Not pushed.
Just—
drawn.
Slowly.
Surely.
Without realizing.
"…toward him…"
---
Azael's POV
"She listens."
The words settled.
Quiet.
Certain.
My gaze remained on the door she left through.
"…too easily."
A pause.
Then—
"No."
Correction.
"…only to me."
Silence.
Then—
a realization.
Unwanted.
Unfamiliar.
Unavoidable.
"…this is inefficient."
But I didn't step back.
Didn't stop it.
Didn't correct it.
Because—
for the first time—
I didn't want to.