Queen's mind was a blur of thoughts as she walked back to her apartment after her meeting with Jihoon. The weight of their conversation still lingered, pressing on her chest in a way she couldn't quite shake off. There was something in his voice that was both reassuring and unnerving. It had been a simple offer—one of collaboration, of support—but somehow it felt much more than that. It was as if he had cracked open a door she'd spent years sealing shut.
Back at her apartment, Queen tossed her keys on the kitchen counter and leaned against it, staring out the window. The city lights blinked in the distance, a reminder that life went on regardless of her Inner turmoil. But inside, things felt different. She wasn't sure how to describe it, but she felt a shift—a subtle but undeniable change in the way she viewed her work, and even her relationship with Jihoon.
She sighed, running a hand through her hair. She had been avoiding this kind of self-reflection for so long. After years of living in a world that demanded perfection and self-sufficiency, allowing herself to be vulnerable was a concept that still felt foreign. But Jihoon's words had cracked open that door, and now there was a growing uncertainty about whether she could ever fully close it again.
The Unexpected Encounter
The next day, Queen arrived at the office with the usual hustle and bustle around her. As she made her way to her desk, she noticed Jihoon standing by the coffee machine, his back to her as he poured himself a cup. For a moment, she hesitated, wondering if she should approach him or let things be.
But before she could make a decision, Jihoon turned around, his gaze landing on her almost instantly. There was no avoiding it now. He gave her a small, acknowledging nod, his expression as unreadable as always.
"Good morning, Queen," he said, his voice steady.
"Good morning," she replied, her voice softer than usual. There was a strange quiet between them, something unspoken hanging in the air.
Jihoon took a sip of his coffee before placing the cup back on the counter. "How's the report coming along?" he asked, his tone casual but with a hint of interest.
"I'm working on it," Queen responded, keeping her tone neutral. "I'll have the adjustments ready by tomorrow."
"That's good to hear," Jihoon said, giving her a small smile. "If you need any help or want to bounce ideas off of me, just let me know."
For a moment, Queen stood still, processing his words. Help. Jihoon was offering it again. The same offer he had made in his office. She could feel the tension in her chest—part of her wanted to push him away, to insist that she didn't need anyone's help. But there was another part of her, the part that had been quietly unraveling since their conversation, that was tempted by his offer.
"Thanks," she said, her voice quieter now. "I'll keep that in mind."
Jihoon gave her a nod before turning to leave, and Queen watched him for a moment before shaking her head. What was happening to her? She had always prided herself on being independent, on being the one who handled everything. So why did Jihoon's words stir something inside of her that she wasn't ready to face?
Facing the Reality
That evening, after another long day at the office, Queen returned home, her thoughts a whirlwind. She knew she needed to focus on the report, but her mind kept returning to Jihoon. The connection they shared—no matter how subtle—had begun to disrupt the careful distance she had maintained from everyone. Her relationship with him had been strictly professional, but now it felt like something more, something undefined.
Sitting at her desk, she opened her laptop and stared at the blank document before her. The report she had been working on seemed like a distant task now. Instead of the words she needed to write, her mind was filled with images of Jihoon, of his gaze, his quiet kindness. She had spent so long building walls around her heart, thinking that independence was the key to survival, but now those walls were beginning to feel more like a prison.
With a frustrated sigh, Queen closed her laptop and stood up, pacing the room. She couldn't focus. The more she thought about Jihoon, the more she realized how much his presence had affected her. There was a part of her that didn't want to acknowledge the shift, that wanted to push it all aside and go back to the way things were. But the more she fought it, the more the reality of the situation set in.
She wasn't the same person she had been before. She had changed—whether she liked it or not.
A Moment of Clarity
As the days passed, Queen found herself grappling with the same questions: what did Jihoon mean to her? Was he just a colleague, or was there something more? And if there was something more, what did that mean for her?
It wasn't until she found herself in the office late one evening, working alone, that she had a moment of clarity. She had stayed late to finish some last-minute revisions on the report, and the office was quiet, the usual chatter replaced with the hum of the air conditioning and the soft tap of her keyboard.
Jihoon walked in, a stack of files in his hands, his expression focused. When he noticed her, he paused, a slight surprise in his eyes.
"You're still here?" he asked, walking over to her desk. "I thought everyone left already."
"I had some last-minute revisions to make," Queen replied, her voice tired but determined.
Jihoon set the files down on her desk and leaned against it, looking at her with a faint smile. "You know, you've been working really hard lately."
Queen shrugged, her gaze fixed on the screen in front of her. "I have a lot to do."
Jihoon seemed to consider something for a moment before speaking again. "You don't always have to do everything on your own, you know."
For a moment, Queen didn't respond. She didn't know what to say. The offer was always there, quiet and insistent. But it was more than just the offer—it was Jihoon himself. The man who had somehow become an anchor in her chaotic world. The man who had shown her that it was okay to rely on someone else, to let go of the suffocating need for control.
"I know," Queen said quietly, finally meeting his gaze. "But sometimes, it feels easier to handle it myself."
Jihoon didn't say anything for a moment. Then, with a soft chuckle, he replied, "I get that. But you don't have to. I'm here if you need me."
Queen's heart skipped a beat at his words, and for the first time in a long while, she allowed herself to feel the truth of them. She wasn't alone in this. She didn't have to carry everything on her own.
And maybe, just maybe, that was okay.