She hates it. 

Park Chanyeol is staring and she doesn’t need to look up to know that he’s eyes pry gape with a combination of emotions. She assumes that for the most part, it’s a mix of anger and concern. It would be something akin to torture to see him, especially after their last conversation and the way the blistering resentment in her stomach only seemed to grow with time. His prying gaze isn’t discreet in any way, clearing his throat as though he were unsure of whether she’d noticed him come in. 

“You’re sleeping in the office,” he breaks through taut silence shifting his eyes towards the half opened suitcase that was stored a few inches from the side of her desk, “… you should be sleeping in a bed, Chaeyoung, you need proper, good quality sleep especially considering your line of work—”

“I don’t know why you’ve come here, I think I’ve made it very well established principle that I don’t want to see you,” she doesn’t give him the luxury of her attention, slender fingertips scrolling through whatever legal material she was studying for her case, “… please don’t make me call security, I don’t know how you passed them especially at this time of the night but I can assure—”

“That is exactly why I’m here,” his voice is no longer gentle but laced with an overtone of frustration, “… your paralegal contacted my team asking for some private security assistance because apparently you’ve been receiving death threats. I will hire personnel, it’s an easy fix but that’s not my main concern right now. You need to not be sleeping in your office, that’s not healthy.” 

“Oh,” her voice breaks through the glut of acidity, an ironic chuckle departing from her lips as she shakes her head, “… why are you under the impression that you have some sort of authority in my life, that you can just waddle in and dictate what to do and where to go and how I should be sleeping? You don’t get to decide anything for me, Chanyeol now please leave.” 

Park Chanyeol saunters his way closer to her, dissatisfaction an omnipresent feature across his expression as he simply watches, brows frowning. 

She hates it. 

Park Chaeyoung hates how he can see her in an oversized shirt and pyjama sweats, absolutely zero makeup and her hair tied up tightly in a high bun. She hates how each and every insecurity is out on display like art in a museum, for him to critic a