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“A date?” Kiwan repeated. She was out on a shopping trip with her brother at the outlet mall. He with his famous mint latte as they browsed an aisle of men’s clothing. Coming to a center display he handed her his cup in order to better search for a shirt for his husband.

“It felt too good to be true.” Namjoo said.

“Then he is the perfect man,” her brother glanced over his shoulder at her. “What are you hesitating for?”

“It’s just…” Namjoo didn’t know how to describe it, “he’s so sweet and he’s such a gentleman. Do you think there are red flags I should be looking for? I mean, it just happened so abruptly. I don’t even know him.”

Snatching his coffee back, Kiwan spat the utmost truth, “We truly never know any one until we’ve been married for twelve years. Please, you’re just lying to yourself if you expect to know him beforehand. Are you crazy?”

Brushing her shoulder as he passed, he stalked out of the store. Namjoo hurried to catch up.

“Do you like him?” Kiwan asked when she finally matched his steps.

“Well…I think,” her eyes hovered over her sneakers, “yes. I do.”

“Then good!” Kiwan’s tone climbed up a notch that two teen girls stared at them as they cruised past. “Think about it this way, Namjoo, maybe you broke up with Hopyung in order to meet this guy right now.”

“Why are you mentioning him?” Namjoo frowned.

Kiwan shrugged, “The douchebag cheated on you. I always knew he never liked you as much as you did him.”

Namjoo scowled. “I don’t believe in fate the way you do.”

“Let’s go on a double date,” Kiwan excitedly suggested. “I’ll check your guy out. My intuition is always 99.9% accurate.” He nudged her, “How about it?”

Namjoo debated all the way until she walked into work on Monday.

She’d been so high on Saturday when Sehun returned her home that she woke up on the other side of the bed, metaphor included. Doubts swarmed her.

Namjoo considered herself a mature woman. Before decision making or talking, she always double-checked possible consequences.

On first dates she never just kissed anyone on her doorstep.

What kind of spell had Sehun cast on her to make her move so fast?

The smell of flowers awakened her when she walked into her office.

Sehun was perfectly sweet. Every one of his pure actions made her heart throb.

Naturally a man who liked a woman wouldn’t leave her clues like flowers to tell her he fancied her. He would talk to her first. Introduce himself. I’m so-so, what’s your name? He would take the steps to eating lunch with her, get to know her, courteously ask her on a date, and afterwards decide if there was chemistry, they could try dating.

Sehun was always around like a shadow. Popping up out of nowhere. Buying and leaving her things. Somehow managing to still make her heart race.

And he was her boss. So mysterious still.

None of this really felt real. Yet it was real.

Perhaps she was afraid she was already in the deep end.

At lunchtime Namjoo stared at the clock. The cafeteria loomed on her mind. At the fore of it the stocky man. She worried. They hadn’t decided on a time to meet, but she was always first downstairs. Would she have to wait long for Sehun?

No packed lunch sat on the center table, so she was doomed into hunger. Her stomach growled. She hated herself.

Groaning, Namjoo pressed both hands against the sides of her head. If only she hadn’t been so eager to please Sehun or just tell him someone was making her uncomfortable. But she’d been so jolly on their date that nothing else crossed her mind.

Uneasily heading downstairs Namjoo stood a way from the busy cafeteria. Men and women were moving their trays along the counter, observing the foods available in tubs at their fore. Not many of her colleagues were about, but one sweep of the thin crowd and it didn’t look like the stocky man was apparent. Breathing relief, Namjoo edged forward taking a tray as she walked up to the counter. Looking at the foods available as cooks in white uniforms on the other side busily slid from stove to sink to pantry. Their tools and heavy pots and pans clattered noisily.

A surprised gasp escaped her when something brushed across her behind. Namjoo quickly looked her right to see a flash flying past. Hurriedly turning her left she recognized the stocky man placing his tray onto the counter slyly grinning at her. He gave her a wink before turning to reach for the spoon in the stir fry bin she’d been eyeing.

Disgust swelled through her followed by burning anger. Lift up the tray and wham him in the head Kiwan would tell her, but Namjoo bit her lip and looked around her where her co-workers were milling about their own business. Their eyes would stray to her if she made a commotion. She was only a temp worker whilst the stocky man had years on her. Imagine Kim Namjoo verses stocky man who would people believe?

She would just end up embarrassing herself.

Workplace hierarchy .

Randomly filling up the plate on her tray Namjoo scurried toward the checkout counter. She found a seat by the corner where other co-workers would give her cover from the stocky man. Hunkering down she poked at her food also questioning why she needed to put up with this.

After an angry bite a flow of warmth brushed her arm. An identical tray landed beside hers.

“You really have to make me squeeze in like this?” Sehun asked.

Namjoo glanced over at the table overfilled with others. Trying a smile, she shrugged. Glad that he was here yet not in the mood to fake being cheery.

“That’s all you’re eating?” he wondered. Namjoo glanced at the fried glass noodles on her plate. No side. No nothing to enjoy her meal with.

opened when Sehun scraped part of his food onto her plate.

“Don’t go on a diet,” he said, “you don’t need to.” Smiling at her, “I like you the way you are.”

He was so damn good with his words. Namjoo felt herself losing her battle of rationality. If a perfect person like Sehun existed, couldn’t she just accept that no questions asked?

“Thanks,” she ended up saying. “I was still hungry.”

“Namjoo,” he called, “you’re free to come to my office anytime, you know that, right?”

Her eyes cut to him.

Another gentle smile swayed his lips. “If you’re stressed, tired, hungry, irritated, or just want to chat, come to my office. It’ll always be open for you.”

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“You’re not going to your office?” Namjoo asked when the number on the elevator screen surpassed six.

“I have an important meeting on the eighth floor,” Sehun explained. “I’ll come see you later. Wait for me.”

The partially timid smile on her face made his heart flutter. She was so cute. He loved seeing her this way.

“Ok.” Namjoo quietly answered when the door hissed open. She turned back once to look at him before walking away. Sehun made sure to smile at her until the doors closed. And then the smile disappeared.

Biting down on his teeth he stared at the red numbers changing one second at a time. Then the doors opened and he stepped out. His feet heavy and determined.

Cancelling a call, he had managed to make it to the cafeteria just before the noon rush. Decided to chat a bit with the coffee vendor as he waited for Namjoo. He would surprise her. At least it was what he had anticipated after constantly being held behind schedule every other occasion.

Namjoo was just barely a minute in the cafeteria when he witnessed the communications team leader grabbing her. What had transpired through him in that second perhaps could never be described in enough words.

A row of identical tall windows floated past on his left. On the other side men and women were pinned behind their computers, headsets on, mouths moving, their voices mute to him. A conference was in session in another room he passed. A suited man up front at the white board where on it was pasted a graphical chart of the team’s progress.

Reaching his destination Sehun knocked on a door. Without waiting he gripped the doorknob, twisted, and opened the door. The man behind the short L-shaped desk’s head popped up. His cellular phone clattered onto his keyboard. Hurriedly putting it beside the computer he rose to his feet. A stocky man. Well fitted with a head still full of hair at his late age of forty. He either toned his muscles or was on drugs.

“Afternoon,” Sehun extended his hand before the man could ask for his identification.

Flustered, the stocky man only had one choice. Go along with the flow. “Uh…yes, hello.”

Sehun immediately wrapped his fingers around the stocky man’s. Tightening his grip. Wrenching his hand back towards his wrist in a millisecond.

The man grunted. His knees bent in a useless attempt to lighten the tension building up in his arm. Groaning he angrily cried out, “Stop! It hurts! What are you doing?!”

“Was it this hand?” Sehun asked.

“What?!” he screeched. He bent lower and released a louder cry.

A gasp startled the moment and Sehun let go of his hand. Immediately running around the desk the stocky man raced toward the interrupter.

“Manager Park!” he screeched. “Thank God you’re here! Please, find out what department this jerk is in! Isn’t there a code against misconduct in the workplace? He just attacked me!”

The elder man, Manager Park, gave Sehun one panicky glimpse. Kicking the stocky man in the shin he hissed beneath his breath, “Show your manners. This is the CEO!”

Sehun’s eyes glistened with triumph when the stocky man’s eyes widened and shot him one shocked stare.

“I believe you’re right about the code against misconduct,” Sehun steely agreed. “An employee who violates rules on or off workplace property, will be subject to adjudication and disciplinary action in accordance to the company’s due process. Disciplinary action may result in suspension, termination, or a heavy fine depending on the crime. Need I go into specific examples of misconduct?”

“S…sir,” the stocky man stuttered. His gaze wavered back and forth from Manager Park to somewhere between where Sehun was standing.

Wearing no expression, Sehun stared the stocky man down.

“If you would excuse us,” Sehun’s tone bore no emotion.

“Yes.” The manager gave him a curt nod, gave the stocky man one look, and backed out of the room shutting the door after him.

Sweating between the brows, the stocky man stiffened. Drawing his shoulders in to make himself smaller.

Sehun took just one step into his space so they were almost shoulder to shoulder. Lowering himself a tad bit just so he could breathe into his ears, Sehun quietly warned, “If you touch my woman one more time, I’ll terminate you.”

Straightening he gave him one heated eyeful before opening the door and stepped out.

Now his nerves were on fire. Despite closing the window to the problem, it didn’t feel enough. Once the elevator doors opened Sehun strut out. Calmly walking into his office, Sehun headed straight for his fridge. Opening an ice-cold bottle of water, he chugged it.

He was used to anger. Clenching it like a tightly wounded fist inside his chest. He could trap it there and wield it like a sword a week later. But now was not then.

Slamming the empty plastic container against the counter he leaned forward to huff a breath. Inhale. Exhale. Unwind. Exhale. Inhale. Repeat.

Straightening, Sehun tossed the water bottle into the trash bin. Swirling around he trekked toward the couch and plopped down. Closing his eyes as the peace set in.

A pretty dandelion green field crossed his empty mind as the tension in his chest lifted. A young version of him raced through the fields. Recalling innocence and good times that offered him a blanket of warmth. When he still had hope for better days. One day gone and another came, Sehun would always be hoping. For a better life, a happier place, who knew, but he had hoped.

He always hoped.

“No, we don’t want him.”

The green field disappeared becoming the bright lights overhead. Groaning, Sehun sat up. Elbows on knees he rubbed his eyes.

“Great,” he muttered.

Getting to his feet he returned to his desk and put himself to work. An hour then two then three trickled by. Another look at the time and Namjoo would be packing up to go home. Grabbing his jacket, he left his office and boarded the elevator for the sixth floor.

As predicted Namjoo was ready to go when he arrived.

“Do you still have a lot to do?” Namjoo asked after closing her door and joining him down the hall.

“Some paperwork,” Sehun answered.

Grabbing the sleeve of his jacket she stopped him a quarter of the way to the elevator. “You look tired.”

“I don’t feel tired.” He grinned. Seeing her worry for him made him want to wrap his arms around her.

“You’ll finish your work faster if you don’t walk me,” Namjoo reasoned. “It’s just a two-minute walk to the car. I’ll be fine.”

“I already came down and you’re going to make me go back up?” Sehun countered.

Namjoo opened then clamped it shut. He grinned harder. Flattered because she cared. When they stepped into the elevator, he stole a glance of her. Curious why she didn’t tell him she was being ually harassed. He would have done something earlier, so she wouldn’t have to be scared walking into the cafeteria.

The possibility of Namjoo feeling unsafe or unhappy perturbed him. He wanted to protect her, always. Just to see her smiling. Her happiness was also his happiness.

The tail lights of her car glowed orange when they neared. Sehun walked with her to the driver’s side regretful that the walk was so short.

He had an itch to tell her to go to the cafeteria without worrying from now on, but didn’t want to give it away that he saw. He had done something about it. What if Namjoo wondered though?

Sehun didn’t want her to think he had a violent, mean streak. He just wanted to be all the things she would ever want, because she was everything he ever dreamed of.

“Namjoo,” he called. Turning with her back to the door Namjoo waited for him to go on. “Can I kiss you?”

Her big eyes fluttered then flittered down. His breathing sharpened when she bravely met his gaze. “You don’t have to ask.”

Sehun didn’t waste a second hesitating. He leaned down to kiss her, cupping the back of her head. His other hand wrapped around her waist to hug her. Euphoria burst through him when Namjoo’s hands touched his shoulders and parted her lips for him. Her body shifted closer sparking him to plant his mouth harder on hers. Every emotion he had for her passed through his wet kisses. Every second that became theirs he felt Namjoo’s fingers burrowing into his shoulders.

His heart pumped wildly when he finally withdrew. The adrenaline rush was so high he panted for his breath. One peek and he saw that Namjoo’s cheeks were flushed. The sound of her heavy breathing made him breathe a somber laugh.

Rubbing his thumb against her hairline he stared past her starlit eyes down to her swollen lips.

She was perfection in grace.

What he needed in his quiet sphere.

“Be mine, Namjoo,” he said. “I already know it’s you.”

Her eyes flickered up to his. There it was again. The shy smile she gave him so often.

A nod of her head gave him everything.

Her shy smile grew grander. Her eyes timidly slid to the side and she tried backing up but went no further than into her car, which she was already against.

Her hands slid from his shoulders down to his arms then his elbows. Staying there very lightly. Sehun soaked in the tandem moment of feathery intimacy.

That this was possibly the first time he ever felt wanted and important. To someone.

His heart thumped. Once, twice, repeatedly.

“Come to my office tomorrow,” he reminded.

Namjoo’s gaze landed sturdily on his face. “Ok.”

“That a promise?” he teased.

“I will,” Namjoo added. “I promise.”

Grinning blissfully Sehun finally let her go. “Get home safe.”

“Ok.”

He gave her a long glance.

Her face reddened. “I mean,” she hurriedly corrected, “of course.”

He laughed cheerily. Pulling the door open he waited for her to get in. “Focus on the road, ok?”

“Yea, I know.” Namjoo sheepishly looked at him.

“Bye. Have a good night.”

“Wait, Sehun,” Namjoo called out when he started closing the door. Pausing he waited for her to finish. “You…you’ll call me?”

Surprise flittered through him.

“Just…I don’t have your number,” Namjoo nervously mumbled. “I thought maybe…you can…look mine up…”

This time, he smiled more confidently. “I’ll call you.”

The anxiety froze on her expression then disappeared. Her eyes brightened, “Then, I’ll wait for your call.”

Sehun nodded.

“Sehun,” Namjoo called again when he began closing the door. He stopped. “Don’t work too hard, ok?”

A snowstorm of his life’s happiest moment flurried through him. “I won’t.”

***wow, I had a really long and brutal week at work bc of the corona virus that I was very drowsy writing this chapter. I hope everyone is taking good care of their bodies and staying safe! I'll work on another update tomorrow :)