Monday mornings at Luma Group were rarely peaceful — but today, they were chaotic.
The marketing division buzzed like a beehive: executives rushing, interns tripping, and whispers floating faster than email.
Yoon Ha-rin walked in holding her latte like a shield. She'd barely slept after that stormy car ride with Jae-hyun, and the memory of his voice —
> "If dreams could talk, what do you think mine is trying to tell me?"
— still echoed somewhere between her ribs.
But before she could even breathe, her colleague Na-eun burst into the cubicle.
"Ha-rin! The new strategic consultant arrived!"
"Okay… and?"
"She's gorgeous, she's polite, she brought handmade macarons for the team — and rumor says she's Director Kang's close family friend."
Ha-rin's eyebrow twitched. "Of course she did."
---
Ten minutes later, the elevator chimed open.
Every male head in the room turned at once.
Han Soo-ah stepped out in a cream-colored dress, her smile soft, voice dripping like honey.
"Good morning, everyone~"
Ha-rin almost admired the performance. Almost.
When Soo-ah reached Jae-hyun's office, she didn't knock — she glided. "Oppa!"
Ha-rin's pen snapped.
Oppa? Seriously?
Through the glass wall, she watched Soo-ah hug Jae-hyun in greeting, then hand him a small gift box. He looked momentarily awkward, then smiled politely — the professional kind that didn't reach his eyes.
Na-eun whispered beside her, "I think I just heard a thousand hearts breaking simultaneously."
Ha-rin muttered, "Mine's just annoyed, not broken."
---
Hours later, during a project meeting, Soo-ah joined the team — uninvited but apparently "approved by Director Kang."
She sat beside Ha-rin, voice all sweetness.
"So, you're the creative lead? I've heard so much about you~"
Ha-rin smiled back with her most diplomatic expression. "Hope it was all accurate."
"Oh yes," Soo-ah giggled. "They said you're very… passionate. Almost too passionate."
Ha-rin's smile froze. "Better than being passion-less."
The team collectively held its breath.
Soo-ah blinked innocently. "Oh, I didn't mean—"
"It's fine," Ha-rin said smoothly. "We all slip sometimes."
Across the table, Jae-hyun looked like he wanted to bury his face in the project files.
---
After the meeting, Ha-rin stayed behind to pack up her notes. Jae-hyun lingered at the doorway.
"She's… an old acquaintance," he said, voice careful.
Ha-rin didn't look up. "Didn't ask."
He sighed. "You're angry."
"I'm not." She zipped her file a little too forcefully. "I just don't like when strangers suddenly turn a meeting into a soap opera."
"Noted," he said, suppressing a smile. "You're jealous."
That made her look up — eyes wide, cheeks pink. "Excuse me?"
He leaned slightly closer, lowering his voice. "For someone who's not angry, you almost broke a pen in half."
"I— that pen was defective!"
He chuckled, soft and warm. "So are your excuses."
She glared, but her lips twitched despite herself. "You're insufferable."
"And you're adorable when you're trying not to be."
Her heart stumbled. "Director Kang, we're at work."
He stepped back with a faint grin. "Then consider this a productivity review. You're very… distracting."
Ha-rin blinked, speechless. He walked away before she could find a comeback.
---
That night, alone at her desk, she stared at the reflection on her laptop screen — her own face, eyes uncertain, smile fragile.
Why did his teasing hurt and heal at the same time?
She whispered, almost to herself,
> "Don't fall again, Ha-rin. Not until he remembers."
Outside, lightning flickered over Nova City's skyline, and from the hallway came a faint scent — jasmine, rain, and the echo of something she still couldn't let go.
---
Meanwhile, in his office, Jae-hyun leaned back in his chair, gazing at the small paper gift Soo-ah had left behind.
He opened it absently — and froze.
Inside was a tiny paper windmill, pale blue and folded perfectly.
The same shape that haunted his dreams.
For a long time, he just stared — the sound of rain faint against the glass — until he whispered,
"Ha-rin…"