Everything felt heavier after he put down his resignation papers.
Three months.
That was all the time left before his presence would turn into absence, before seeing him every day would no longer be a silent comfort but a memory she would have to live with. She tried to convince herself that nothing had changed, that she was still the same cheerful, carefree girl everyone knew—but her heart knew better.
The thought of him leaving unsettled her in ways she couldn't explain. She wanted to stay close, close enough that when he finally walked out of the office for the last time, she wouldn't be erased from his life along with the job. She didn't want to force anything, didn't want to ask for more than she was allowed to—but deep inside, she wished for a reason, any reason, that would keep them connected.
So she prayed. Quietly. Honestly.
Just for a chance.
And somehow, the universe answered.
The office announced an activity day—music, games, performances, laughter breaking the monotony of politics and stress. Employees and interns were divided into four teams: Red, Yellow, Blue, and Green. Each team would have one senior and four interns, one from each department—media, finance, sales, and production. The teams were to be decided through a chit system.
She stood there with the folded paper in her palm, barely breathing as she opened it. She hadn't allowed herself to hope. Hope had disappointed her too many times already.
But when she read his name, her heart skipped.
Once.
Twice.
She looked again, just to be sure. It was real. They were in the same team.
A warmth spread through her chest—soft, overwhelming, almost unreal. She glanced up instinctively, and there he was, calm and composed, unaware of the quiet miracle that had just occurred for her.
As planning began, their team discussed the activity segments—games, songs, and a dance performance. Everyone knew one thing very clearly: he could dance, and no one else in the group could—or wanted to. After a brief pause, he looked at her and asked, almost effortlessly,
"Would you like to join me?"
She had always wanted this moment. Not the stage, not the performance—but time with him. Real time. Since solo performances weren't allowed, it made perfect sense.
She said yes.
For him, it was about winning the activity.
For her, it was about closeness.
They decided to practice at his place.
The idea alone made her heart race. For the first time, she didn't have to overthink, didn't have to hide or hesitate. This wasn't personal—it was official. Work-related. Allowed. No one could question her intentions, no one could turn it into gossip.
She was excited in a way she hadn't been in a long time. She would finally get to be around him without fear—watch him closely, understand him better, see him beyond office stress and politics. She could exist near him without pretending she didn't care.
As she walked back to her desk, a small smile played on her lips. The constant ache in her chest softened, just a little. Maybe this was her chance—not for love, not for promises—but for something that would last beyond the office walls.
She didn't want forever.
She just wanted enough to stay.