A/N: Thank you to all readers, commenters, and subscribers. You guys are really supportive and great. Top-notch. Quality readers deserve quality updates, which I hope I'm able to provide. One more chapter after this, but give me at least 2 weeks before you start hardcore nagging because I want to write a quick Hyukfany oneshot to post right after this is finished.

Music: Because It's You - Tiffany

I realize that I’m still at my desk, practically drooling in front of the computer monitor. Hyukjae is sitting in front of me, a few feet away, fully clothed and fully confused. He is staring at me with a worried expression, and I dart my eyes away. I can already feel the heat rising in my face, my cheeks turning as pink as my boss’s gums, ironically my favorite color.

“Sorry, I was just spacing out,” I mutter, continuing to clack on the keyboard.

His eyes narrow and I grow nervous, hoping he didn’t suddenly have the miraculous ability to read minds. My fingers type furiously and I inwardly reprimand myself for getting so carried away. There had been lesser daydreams before, but none as graphic or lascivious, or so vividly experienced. And they had always come when I was alone, not right in front of the man I fantasized about!

He’s finished studying me, and clears his throat. “Tiffany,” he begins. I lose focus and my fingertips slip off the keys; my palms are perspiring. “I know I’ve already asked you this, but tell me truthfully: Are you in love?”

I almost choke on air. “No!” I profusely deny, stating what I am sure is the truth. Hyukjae seems doubtful, however, so I decide to throw him a little bone. “Well, I may have some, uh, unwanted attraction towards this man, but it’s nothing even close to being defined love. Just a crush, just a simple crush!”

“Hm.” He’s still skeptical; He doesn’t believe me. “I wonder what you were thinking about so seriously then.” The man smirks. I could just die of embarrassment. If only he knew how ironic his words were.

I scoff and turn away, coming to the conclusion that I’m not going to get any more work done, at least not with Hyukjae watching me. “I’m finished,” I say, opening a desk drawer. I manage to slip a weathered brass key into my purse with one swift, undetectable movement before standing and grabbing my coat.

He seems surprised. “Really?”

I give a brilliant eye-smile in answer, to show I was worry free. Truthfully, I had not finished, but I didn’t think it was possible for me to concentrate anymore, what with the Hyukjae in front of me and the Hyukjae invading my half-focused trances.

“Okay.” He curiously gazes at me but doesn’t object, and stands up from his seat. We walk alongside each other to the elevator at the far end of the office, our strides matching. When the doors open, he invites me to enter. “Ladies first.” His arms make the gesture and his face holds the familiar goofy expression.

In the seven and a half seconds it takes to get from our work floor to the ground, my heart pumps a million times. I don’t know what to say or do around the man right after having such an inappropriate fantasy about him. I spend the time mostly listening to the hum of the elevator gears turning and clearing my own throat. It seems to take ages to get to the ground lobby.

The sound of rushing cars is warmly welcomed as we exit the office building, adding some sound to the empty air between us. The sidewalk, wet with this afternoon’s quick shower, looks slick and dewy. A lone streetlamp casts a ring of light on the ground, bathing Hyukjae and me in its glow.

I glance at the watch on my wrist. “It’s 7:15,” I announce nonchalantly, pushing back all my dangerous feelings and thoughts.

Hyukjae doesn’t freak out like I thought he would. Rather, he just sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “I should call Hyoyeon. Boy, is she going to be pissed."

I can’t help but feel a little pity for him. Technically, I was the guilty party that caused him to stay behind at work. “I’m sure she’ll understand. You had to be at work,” I soothe, giving him a reassuring glance.

His eyes bore into my face, gauging the plausibility of my words. “I guess,” he agrees. There’s something different in the way he stands, in the way he speaks. I recognize it as the fatigue Hyukjae faces every evening, after work. Even when he tries to hide it, I can still tell it’s there. The fact that he works so hard to exhaustion every day is admirable, and my heart aches for him.

The next words I hear are not unfamiliar. “Hey, Tiffany. Are you busy later?”

“No, not really,” I reply, wondering where this question is leading.

“Let’s go for a drink later, just you and me. Not as coworkers, but as friends,” he grins.

Yet they surprise me anyways. “Oh,” I stutter, trying to come up with a reason to decline the oft-repeated invitation. “What about your date with Hyoyeon?”

“Dinner will probably finish in a few hours. Then Hyo usually goes off to the studio alone to get some evening practice, like she does every night.” His voice carries a twinge of bitterness, and I immediately begin wondering why Hyoyeon would ever want time away from Hyukjae. “Come on, I need to thank you for all you’ve done for me in the office.” His smile is disarming, and I almost give in.

But my brain slams that door shut. “I can’t,” I say automatically, following a certain routine I go through every time Hyukjae has asked me to hang out with him outside of the office. “I- I was planning to use this evening to rest and, uh, rejuvenate myself.” I decline as politely as possible, trying not to reveal my discomfort. It’s not that I wouldn’t like to spend time with Hyukjae, but that if I did, I would only be encouraging this stupid crush of mine. And Lord knows I don’t need to give myself even more reason to be lusting after my boss. “Maybe some other time,” I make an empty promise, a wispy smile on my lips.

He peers at me with his darkly colored eyes. I can’t tell if he believes my thinly veiled lie, my hollow words. I wonder if he knows I actually plan to return to the office after he’s gone so I can finish the work I left behind. I wonder if he can deduce my true feelings just by gazing into my eyes.

Finally, he nods empathetically. “That’s okay, you deserve some of your alone time. I mean,” he laughs quietly, “you must be tired of seeing me all the time. I hardly let you get any work done, bothering you all day.” Hyukjae smiles and puts up a hand to silence my protests. “I have to go now.”

That’s right; it’s 7:20 now. I reluctantly bid him farewell. “Good night, Mr. Hyukjae.” My hands grip the strap of my purse, my knuckles whitening.

“Good night, Tiffany.” He turns and begins to walk away. Looking over his shoulder, he utters a last few words. “Remember to lock the door when you’ve finished.”

Stunned, I stare at his back until it disappears into the night. A giggle escapes my throat as I marvel at the enigma that is my boss’s mind. Appearing outwardly juvenile and incompetent, Hyukjae is full of thoughtfulness and hidden wisdom. Knowing that I had intended to deceive him, he still acted cordially with me, and even accepted my decision!

What a man, that Hyukjae is. Without meaning to, he slipped past my fortified defenses and still managed to leave yet another imprint on my heart.  

There’s no way I can focus now with this new development. In a star-struck condition, I take the train home and slip into my apartment. After a few inconsequential flipping of channels, I get myself ready for bed.

I lie on the soft mattress for what seems like an eternity, the covers pulled over me. No matter how comfortable I try to make myself, no matter how tight I shut my eyes, I can’t rest. My mind wanders back and forth, shuffling between thoughts of Hyukjae with Hyoyeon, and then a Hyukjae sitting at home alone.

Agitated, I finally quit trying to fall asleep. After I get dressed again, I grab my purse- the one with the office key in it. Maybe if I finish my work, my mind will be less preoccupied with these undesired contemplations.

The taxi I hail takes me back to the office building, and I let myself in. I say hello to the night watchman, and then take the elevator up to my work floor.

The doors open, and I’m greeted by darkness. The lights are off, giving the place an eerie and unfamiliar aura. The hairs on the back of my neck rise.

It takes a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. I soon am able to see a thin line of light seeping under the cracks of the door that is situated near my area. The only conclusion I come to is that someone is in Hyukjae’s office.

Cautious not to bump into my own desk, I walk over to the light and find the door handle. I open the door to see who else but Hyukjae lying on the floor in front of his desk, his eyes closed, and his arms and legs stretched outwards.

A moment of terror hits me, and I rush over to see if my boss was alright, if he was not harmed in any way. “Mr. Hyukjae!” I place a hand on his shoulder, and his eyes flutter open. “Mr. Hyukjae?” I make my voice gentle, keeping it almost down to a whisper.

He looks up at me. “Hi Tiffany.” A lazy smile drifts across his features. My breath catches; I think that I’m leaning over a work of perfection.

The red slowly seeps to my cheeks as I stutter, “Wh- what are you doing here? Are you ill?”

He blinks. “Ill?” Hyukjae seems disoriented, and his eyes roll back as he lets out a disheartened cackle. “You mean sick, right? Yeah, I’m sick. I’m so very sick. Of that infuriating woman.”

“Mr. Eunhyuk,” I press him to explain what he means.

“I forgot that tonight was the anniversary of when we had first started dating. Hyoyeon was mad at me for arriving so late, and we got into this argument. I was so mad, and we just kept spitting things out at each other. Long story short, it’s over. The engagement's off.” He says this so bluntly and plainly that if I didn’t know him better I would have thought he wasn’t affected by this at all. But my sharp eye caught him blinking a bit more often than usual; my acute ears heard the waver in his voice.

“I’m sorry,” I utter. I really am.

Seeing him in distress, I want so terribly to scoop him up into my arms and give him the comfort he needs, but I hold back. Fighting against myself, I struggle to come up with a viable solution between my emotions and my brain, hesitating to move.

Then an idea hits me- the perfect compromise.

“Mr. Hyukjae,” I say his name with growing resolve. He looks up at me, and I gaze right back into those absorbing brown eyes. They’re glassy, so I attempt a small smile to cheer him up. “I’ve changed my mind. Let’s go out for that drink tonight, like friends.”