NADO SARANGHAE

Part 17 ♡

Author's POV:

As the day leaned into evening, the towering glass structure of The Jeon Empire began to glow under the fading sunlight. The golden hues of dusk reflected off its polished exterior, casting long, slanting beams across the office floors. Inside, the once-busy workspace gradually softened into a quieter rhythm—the sharp tapping of keyboards slowed, chairs shifted back, and conversations began to replace the rigid silence of productivity.

Yet, amidst this gentle winding down, one corner of the office remained emotionally unsettled.

Yn sat at her desk, her posture slightly slumped, as though the weight of the day still pressed heavily upon her shoulders. The soft glow of her computer screen illuminated her face, but her eyes were unfocused, lost somewhere far beyond the lines of code displayed before her. The numbers and syntax that once intrigued her now felt distant, almost foreign, as if her mind refused to cooperate after the emotional storm she had endured.

Around her, colleagues gathered their belongings, exchanging knowing glances in her direction. Though their voices were hushed, the subtle shift in atmosphere was unmistakable. Curiosity lingered in the air like a faint perfume—unseen, yet impossible to ignore. A few offered polite smiles as they passed her desk, but even those carried an undertone of intrigue, as though she had suddenly become a puzzle everyone wanted to solve.

Yn could feel it.

Not the words themselves, but the attention—the awareness of being watched, of being quietly discussed. It wrapped around her like an unfamiliar fabric, too tight, too suffocating.

Her fingers hovered above the keyboard before slowly retreating, curling into her palm. She lowered her gaze, hoping invisibility could be willed into existence if she tried hard enough.

Several floors above, inside a spacious glass-walled cabin that overlooked the city skyline, Jungkook stood near the window, his silhouette outlined by the fading daylight. The city beyond stretched endlessly, painted in shades of amber and soft grey, yet his focus remained anchored within the building itself.

His reflection stared back at him in the glass—composed, controlled, as always.

But beneath that exterior, something restless stirred.

His eyes drifted downward, instinctively searching the office floor where Yn worked. Though distance blurred the details, he could still identify the small figure seated at her desk. Even from afar, something about her stillness felt... off.

Not the calm stillness of focus.

But the quiet withdrawal of someone overwhelmed.

His jaw tightened slightly.

The memory of the cafeteria resurfaced—the whispers, the stares, the sudden shift in how others perceived her. He had anticipated attention, but not its intensity. Not its impact on someone like her.

A faint exhale escaped him, carrying with it a trace of regret.

Without lingering any longer, he turned away from the window, his decision already made.

Back at her desk, Yn flinched softly as the shrill ring of the office phone broke through her thoughts. The sound felt unusually loud in the thinning office space, drawing a few curious glances in her direction.