With the final launch of the fragrance project nearing, the team was working longer hours, and Hana kept getting paired with Sohei. At first, she thought she could handle it. They had worked together for weeks—she was used to his teasing, his confidence, and how easily he got under her skin.
But this time felt different. Now, there was no ignoring how close they were—physically and emotionally. Every day felt like a test of her self-control, while Sohei kept chipping away at her walls like it was second nature.
It was the little things that got to her. The way he rolled up his sleeves, showing off his forearms as he worked. The way he leaned over her shoulder to check her screen, his breath warm on her skin, his voice low and calm. Or how his tone would drop slightly during deep discussions, full of quiet focus that made her stomach flip.
It was too much. And the worst part? Sohei knew exactly what he was doing. He always did.
"You're blushing," he pointed out casually one afternoon, tapping his pen rhythmically against the table as he studied her reaction, his lips curving into that infuriatingly smug smirk.
Hana snapped her head up from her notes, eyes wide. "I am not!" she protested, but the blush creeping up her face said otherwise.
Sohei tilted his head, eyes gleaming. "You literally turned red," he said, calm but clearly amused.
Hana groaned and pressed her hands to her cheeks. "Working with you should come with a health warning," she mumbled behind her palms.
He let out a low, satisfied chuckle that made her skin tingle. "You're the one who keeps staring," he teased, leaning back in his chair like he had all the time in the world.
That evening, as expected, they were the last ones in the office. The space was quiet, just the hum of lights and the soft clicks of keyboards. Hana stretched with a sigh, rolling her shoulders to ease the stiffness. "We should take a break," she said gently but firmly.
Sohei didn't respond.
She turned to him—and noticed right away that something was off. His usual confident look was gone, replaced by a tense expression. His jaw was tight, brows drawn, like something was bothering him. He rubbed his temples, trying to ease a headache or calm his thoughts.
"…Are you okay?" she asked, her voice gentle but laced with worry.
Sohei blinked, as if surprised by the question. He let out a slow breath, his hand dropping to the table as he finally muttered, "Just tired."
Hana frowned, unconvinced. "You sure?" she pressed, her gaze searching his face for any sign of what was really bothering him.
A small chuckle left his lips, but it lacked his usual playfulness. "You're worrying about me now?" he asked, his tone light but his eyes betraying a flicker of something deeper—something vulnerable.
Hana nudged his arm lightly, her touch lingering for just a second longer than necessary.
"Since always," she admitted softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "You just never noticed."
Something in Sohei's eyes changed—the usual edge gave way to something softer, quieter. The tension in his shoulders loosened, and for the first time that day, he looked at her without the shield of sarcasm or teasing. Just her. Just them.
He leaned back in his chair with a slow exhale, his voice low, rough around the edges. "You drive me crazy, you know that?"
Hana's breath hitched, her heart stumbling. She didn't look away this time. "Yeah?" she said, her voice soft but steady, the corner of her mouth lifting. "Guess it's only fair. You've been in my head all the time."
His eyes darkened slightly at her words. Sohei stood slowly, closing the short distance between them in two quiet steps. His hand reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering just a little too long. "Tell me to stop," he murmured, voice barely above a whisper.
She didn't.
Instead, Hana rose from her seat, the tension snapping like a live wire as he pulled her in. His lips met hers—slow at first, exploratory, but quickly deepening into something fierce, something months in the making. His hand slid around her waist, pulling her flush against him as her fingers fisted lightly in the fabric of his shirt.
The kiss was messy, breathless, a collision of tension and release. The kind that left her dizzy, leaning into him like her legs didn't quite remember how to stand on their own.
When they finally broke apart, foreheads pressed together, Sohei let out a quiet laugh, his breath warm against her skin. "That wasn't in the project plan."
Hana laughed, still breathless. "No," she whispered, brushing her fingers against his jaw, "but it was bound to happen."
"I used to think relationships weren't for me," Sohei said quietly, his tone more serious than usual, like he was admitting something he hadn't said out loud before.
Hana didn't speak, afraid to break the moment, but her heart tightened. This wasn't the usual Sohei—the one who joked and teased. This was someone more vulnerable, someone carrying doubts he usually kept hidden.
"After my last one, I thought maybe I wasn't meant to commit," he continued, voice steady but edged with regret.
Hana's breath caught. "Because of Mika?" she asked softly. She'd heard small bits about his ex, but he never talked about it—not like this.
He nodded slightly, jaw tight. "Not just her. But yeah… she was part of it."
No smirks, no jokes—just the truth. Hana felt something stir in her chest, a mix of sympathy and something deeper she couldn't name. Something that made her want to reach out to him.
She swallowed hard. "And now?" she asked, her voice barely steady as she looked into his eyes.
Sohei met her gaze, his eyes dark and clear. And then, quietly—like a truth he'd just realized himself—he said, "…Now, I think I was wrong."
Sohei let the words hang in the air for a moment, like he wasn't sure if he wanted to say more—but then he did. Slowly, carefully.
"I think I was scared," he said, eyes still locked on hers. "Of what it would mean to let someone in again. To care too much and mess it all up."
He looked away then, his fingers curling slightly against the armrest. "With Mika… I thought I had it figured out. But it was all surface. Easy until it wasn't. We didn't really see each other—not the way that matters." He let out a quiet breath. "I didn't even realize how lonely I was until it ended."
Hana listened in silence, her heart aching at the quiet honesty in his voice. She had never seen this side of him—raw, uncertain, real. The Sohei who carried his hurt quietly, behind teasing smiles and confident words.
"I didn't think I'd try again," he added, softer now. "But then you came along. And it was different. You didn't try to impress anyone. You were just… you. Messy notes, coffee addiction, stubborn as hell. And it got to me."
He looked back at her, something unguarded in his eyes. "I started wanting to be around you, even when I knew I shouldn't. And when you kissed me that night… I stopped trying to pretend it was just nothing."
Hana's breath caught, her fingers tightening slightly on the edge of the table. The heat rushed to her face, but she didn't look away this time. She couldn't.
Sohei leaned in just a little, voice low. "You make me want things I stopped believing I could have."
Hana's heart pounded so loudly she was sure he could hear it. His words settled deep inside her, soft but heavy, like a truth she hadn't let herself fully believe until now. She stared at him—really stared—and for the first time, didn't try to hide what was in her eyes.
"You're not the only one who was scared," she said quietly. "I've spent so long convincing myself I was hard to love… that it was safer to keep things at a distance. And then you—" her voice faltered for a moment as emotion welled up, "you showed up and turned everything upside down without even trying."
Sohei didn't speak. He didn't have to.
"You make me feel seen," she continued, voice trembling. "Even when I didn't want to be."
She stood, slowly stepping around the table until she was in front of him. Her hand reached out before she could overthink it, fingers brushing gently against his. Sohei caught her hand in his, rising to meet her halfway. His other hand came to rest at her waist, pulling her in—not forcefully, just close enough that she could feel the warmth of his body, the steady rhythm of his breathing.
Their foreheads touched, breaths mingling in the quiet space between them.
"You scare me," she whispered, barely audible.
He smiled faintly, his thumb tracing her wrist. "Good. You scare me too."
And then, without hesitation this time, Sohei closed the distance, capturing her lips in a kiss that was soft but sure—slow, deep, and full of everything they hadn't said.
When they finally pulled apart, Sohei rested his forehead gently against hers, his voice low and steady.
"Stay with me," he said, not as a command, but a quiet plea. "Let's see where this goes… together."
Hana nodded, her eyes soft and certain. "I'm not going anywhere."
By the time they packed up, it was already past nine o'clock. The office was empty and quiet except for the two of them. "Come on, let's get you home." Sohei said, breaking the silence as they walked toward the parking lot. His voice was casual, but there was a warmth to it that made her stomach flutter.