Monday mornings at Luma Group were never quiet.
Elevators dinged like alarms, coffee machines hissed like dragons, and interns ran like their lives depended on spreadsheets.
Into this chaos walked Yoon Ha-rin, wearing a soft smile that refused to fade.
It had been just two days since Aureum-ri, but she still carried the scent of that place in her heart — salt, jasmine, and something that felt dangerously like happiness.
Her best friend and colleague, Na-eun, spotted her immediately.
"Oh no," she said dramatically, blocking the hallway. "You have that glow."
Ha-rin blinked innocently. "Glow?"
"Don't 'glow?' me! That's the 'I've-been-romantically-spoiled-in-a-beautiful-village' glow!"
Ha-rin laughed, trying to push past. "It's called good lighting, Na-eun."
Na-eun gasped. "So it's true! He proposed, didn't he? You two eloped under a jasmine tree, right? Tell me everything before HR finds out!"
"Nothing like that happened," Ha-rin said, cheeks pink. "Stop making it sound like a drama!"
Na-eun folded her arms. "Honey, you are a drama. And I'm living for the reruns."
---
At that exact moment, the office door slid open — and Director Kang Jae-hyun stepped in.
Black suit. Calm expression. Professional composure… almost.
He nodded to his team, expression unreadable, and walked straight to his office.
For a moment, everyone fell silent — the air thick with that awkward post-romance professionalism nobody dared comment on.
Na-eun whispered, "You'd think he was carved out of marble."
Ha-rin muttered, "He's trying to look cold. Watch him fail in ten minutes."
"Bold of you to bet against the ice king," Na-eun teased.
Ha-rin smirked. "He melts easily. I've seen it happen."
---
True enough, ten minutes later, Jae-hyun emerged from his office holding a file.
His gaze swept over the room, calm and detached — until it landed on Ha-rin.
Just one second.
That was all it took.
The slightest twitch at the corner of his mouth.
A not-so-subtle pause before he spoke.
"Miss Yoon," he said, too evenly. "Join me for the briefing in five minutes."
"Yes, Director Kang," she replied with equal poise.
Na-eun leaned over as soon as he disappeared. "Did he just almost smile?"
"Almost," Ha-rin whispered back. "That's what happens when he remembers me hiding his coffee last week."
Na-eun giggled. "You two are going to make HR cry one day."
---
The meeting started smoothly enough — numbers, charts, deadlines — until Han Soo-ah entered the room, notebook in hand, voice sweet as syrup.
"Apologies, Director. I wanted to share the latest client projections."
Jae-hyun nodded politely. "Go ahead."
Ha-rin busied herself with her notes, pretending not to notice how Soo-ah stood a little too close to him while explaining her chart.
Na-eun nudged Ha-rin under the table. "Someone's staking territory."
Ha-rin murmured, "Someone's forgetting he's allergic to artificial sweeteners."
Soo-ah turned, smiling too brightly. "Miss Yoon, your analysis from the last quarter was… interesting. I suppose Director Kang found it satisfactory?"
Jae-hyun looked up, brow arching. "I found it excellent, actually."
Soo-ah blinked. "Oh… of course."
Na-eun bit back a laugh, whispering, "Oof. That's what we call friendly fire."
---
After the meeting, Ha-rin was organizing files when Jae-hyun stopped by her desk.
He leaned down slightly. "Good work today."
"Thank you, Director," she said, deliberately professional.
He hesitated, then lowered his voice. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
"Immensely," she whispered, lips twitching. "You're terrible at pretending you don't know me."
He smiled — just enough for her to notice. "And you're terrible at letting me miss you."
"Good," she said. "That's mutual."
Before either could say more, Soo-ah passed by with a tight smile. "You two seem to work… closely."
Jae-hyun looked up, tone calm but pointed. "Productivity improves when there's trust."
Ha-rin nearly laughed. Soo-ah's smile faltered just slightly before she walked away.
---
Later, in the quiet of evening, Ha-rin sat at her desk finishing reports.
Through the glass wall, Jae-hyun caught her eye.
They didn't speak — just a look, shared and secret, full of amusement and promise.
The same kind of look that said: We're back in the real world now, but the heart hasn't changed.
Outside, city lights replaced the moonlight of Aureum-ri.
But for both of them, the world still glowed in the same color —
a quiet, private warmth that no amount of office gossip could touch.