The door opened, and the delicate scent of coffee was the first to awaken her senses.
A soft, nutty aroma, warm as an old comfort, drifted through the air and led Celeste quietly inside.
Daniel was already at the kitchen counter.
A calm grey knit layered with a pale blue shirt, He was slowly brewing her favorite—low-acidity beans, just the way she liked.
Every movement was unhurried, precise.
As if performing a quiet morning ritual.
Beyond the window, autumn sunlight poured in like honey, and a gentle jazz melody played in the background, barely audible.
Mid-pour, he looked up.
His eyes welcomed her before his smile did.
"Morning."
Celeste gave a small nod.
The faint whisper of her slippers grazing the marble floor lingered in the silence.
Without a word, Daniel placed a warm mug into her hands—a quiet greeting wrapped in ceramic.
"It's not sweet. But the aroma's good."
His voice was softer than the coffee itself.
She lifted the mug with care, took a small sip—The warmth and depth that bloomed on her tongue slowly softened the furrow between her brows.
"…It's perfect."
Daniel didn't respond with words.
A smile curled gently at the edge of his lips, settling quietly into the hush between them.
They stood side by side, sipping their coffee in silence.
Outside, the trees swayed lazily in the wind, and sunlight crept deeper into the room with every passing second.
When the cups were half-full, Daniel opened the wardrobe to prepare for work.
He pulled out a tie, and without hesitation, walked toward her.
"Will you?"
She took it with a glimmer of laughter in her eyes.
"A little closer."
He stepped forward willingly.
Celeste smoothed his collar, looping the tie around his neck with practiced ease.
Breaths drew closer.
No space remained between them.
Daniel gently wrapped his arms around her waist—as natural and effortless as the morning itself.
While adjusting the knot, she murmured,
"Let's not make it too perfect."
The warmth of his skin, peeking from beneath the shirt, traveled through her fingertips and into her chest.
Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he said,
"You don't know what you're doing to me right now."
And before the last word fully landed, his lips found hers.
The kiss was neither rushed nor hesitant.
It held certainty.
Emotion.
Deep.
Tender.
Honest.
Even after their lips parted, they remained close—their foreheads resting together, breath shared, gaze unwavering.
Daniel was the first to speak.
"How am I supposed to think about meetings after this?"
Celeste chuckled softly and whispered,
"Then how about this—I'll work on the 10th floor this week too. Would that make it better?"
He nodded, hope gleaming in his voice.
"Can I… leave the door open? So I can peek at you now and then…Pretend I'm taking a break."
"You really are a handful."
she laughed, shaking her head in mock defeat.
At that, he pulled her into a deeper embrace.
A quiet hug that seemed to inhale and exhale with her breath.
His arms, warm as a scarf wrapped around her, spoke more than words ever could.
The hidden door between his Vice President's office and her President's suite—Daniel's private, sacred passageway.
No locks.
No distance.
Not this week.