That night, Seoul felt slower than usual.The streets, slick with rain, reflected the city's glow — fractured lights trembling like pieces of dreams that fell too quickly.Han Serin sat in the living room of Jaehyun's apartment — a place that usually felt like a war room, but tonight, it was simply the quiet ground between two people who hadn't yet learned how to speak gently.
Two cups of tea rested on the table.One, Serin's, long gone cold.The other, Jaehyun's, barely touched.Beyond the glass, the hum of traffic faded into a silence that felt fragile but deep.
"It's been a while since I've heard the city this quiet," Serin murmured.Jaehyun, standing by the window, crossed his arms. "The city's never quiet," he said softly. "We're just too tired to listen."
He walked closer, slowly. Without his suit jacket, in a rolled-up black shirt, he looked less like the untouchable CEO — and more like someone human enough to be dangerous.Serin didn't move away. There was something in the stillness — not distance anymore, but rhythm.
"The news today…" she started, voice faint. "I thought I was immune by now.""Being immune doesn't mean you don't hurt," Jaehyun said. "It just means you've learned how to hide it better."
She let out a small, bitter laugh. "You talk like you know how that feels.""Because I do."The words came too easily, too honest. And for once, she didn't look away. Her gaze met his — searching, testing the truth behind the calm that used to infuriate her.
Silence again.The wall clock ticked like a heartbeat trying to remember its rhythm.
"Do you ever regret it?" Serin asked quietly. "Dragging me into this world. This contract."Jaehyun looked out the window, then back at her. "If I said yes, would you leave?""Maybe.""Then no."
They didn't speak after that. But the silence wasn't cold anymore.Something had shifted — faint, but real. As if the quiet itself had begun to know their names, to memorize the way their breaths fell into sync.
Serin rose from her seat, turning toward the skyline. "I don't know where this is heading."Jaehyun's voice was a whisper. "No one does. But tonight… let the silence speak for us."
And in that moment, nothing else mattered — only the quiet, holding its breath, as if waiting for the story to change.
Because sometimes, the heart doesn't confess in words — it begins in silence.