Rina stood in front of the tall glass doors of the 59th floor, holding the coffee like it might detonate.
This was Kira Yoon's personal office.
The place people entered with perfect posture, trembling hands, and maybe a resignation letter already typed out—just in case.
Except Rina wasn't even supposed to be here. She was a barista. A temporary hire. And now... somehow, she was delivering coffee to the CEO of Syntek Corp personally.
Every day for the past three days.
Today was the fourth.
"Okay," she whispered to herself. "It's just coffee. Just foam. Just... Kira freaking Yoon behind that door."
She inhaled, knocked once, and pushed the door open.
The office was exactly what she expected: huge, cold, and minimal. Everything was white, silver, or black. A clean code of a space. No photos. No warmth. Just a view of the city that looked like it belonged to someone who owned it.
Kira stood at the far end, back turned, arms crossed as she stared out the window like a Bond villain.
Rina walked in slowly, trying not to squeak. The tray in her hands felt heavier with each step.
"I brought your flat white," she said, voice too high.
Kira turned slightly. Her eyes, impossibly green, landed on Rina.
"You're late."
Rina panicked. "Wha—I'm not! The schedule said—"
A pause.
Then—subtle, but unmistakable—Kira's lips curved. Barely. Just enough to be dangerous.
"I was joking."
Rina blinked.
Kira Yoon. Joking.
"Oh," Rina said. "Hahaha. Right. I... got the joke. Ha."
Silence again. Rina walked over to the desk and gently set the coffee down. She hesitated for a second, then added a tiny napkin on the side. On it, she'd drawn a little bunny doodle saying "Hang in there!"
Kira looked at the napkin. Then at her.
"You drew this."
"Yeah. You looked tired yesterday. I thought maybe it'd help."
Another long pause.
Then, in the softest voice Rina had ever heard from her:
"No one's ever given me something like this."
Rina blinked. "What, a napkin?"
"A moment."
The words hung in the air like the scent of cinnamon and espresso.
Rina's heart flipped.
"I—uh—it's just a silly doodle—"
"It's not."
Kira's tone didn't change, but her expression did. Just a little. Her shoulders relaxed. Her eyes didn't look through Rina this time—they looked at her.
"You don't have to wait," Kira said finally, picking up the cup. "I know you have work."
Rina nodded too quickly. "Right! Yeah. Coffee doesn't pour itself."
She turned to go—then paused at the door.
"Hey, um... do you always work alone up here?"
Kira glanced up. "Why?"
Rina shrugged. "Just seems lonely."
Kira didn't respond. Just looked out the window again.
Right before Rina slipped out, she heard it—barely audible, almost like static in a quiet system:
"It is."