The elevator stopped with a soft ding.
Shen Miao stepped out, heart still pounding, her heels echoing down the quiet corridor leading to the office café. He Ran followed silently behind her, hands in pockets, watching her every move with narrowed eyes.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"Coffee," she answered flatly. "To clear my head."
Once in the café on the ground floor, Shen Miao picked the table farthest from the crowd. He Ran returned with two steaming cups and sat across from her. She didn't meet his eyes.
They sat across from each other, the aroma of fresh coffee swirling between them.
"I didn't expect Irene to join," Shen Miao said, her voice cool.
"She's just a temporary consultant," He Ran replied, taking a sip, eyes fixed on her. "You seemed uncomfortable."
She gave a short, bitter laugh. "Uncomfortable? No. Just… entertained by her performance."
He leaned in slightly, his voice low. "You're jealous."
Shen Miao gave a dry laugh. "Why would I be jealous? You and I… we're just colleagues, remember?"
He stared at her, his expression unreadable. "You're punishing me, aren't you?"
She looked away. "If that's what it feels like, maybe you deserve it."
Shen Miao's fingers tightened around the coffee cup. "Don't flatter yourself."
But the way Irene had leaned close, touching his arm, smiling like they shared a private world—it hadn't gone unnoticed. And worse, He Ran hadn't pulled away.
"You didn't stop her," she said quietly.
"Because there was nothing to stop," he answered. "You know that."
He was silent. Then, "Come to my office after this."
"I don't think that's necessary—"
"It wasn't a request."
She stood abruptly. "I'm going back. Enjoy your coffee."
He Ran didn't follow her immediately. She returned to her desk, typing furiously, ignoring his occasional glances through the glass wall of his cabin.
The rest of the day passed in a fog of silence. When Shen Miao was about to log out, a message blinked on her screen:
"My office. Now." – HR
Her pulse skipped. She walked in slowly, keeping her chin high.
The air in his office was cool, the blinds drawn down halfway. Shen Miao stepped in, trying to remain calm, but her heart was racing.
He Ran stood by the large window, blinds half drawn, city lights spilling behind him like a halo. As soon as she entered, he turned and quietly pulled the blinds down. He Ran shut the door quietly behind them, then turned the blinds shut with one swift motion, locking the world outside. Every last one.
"What's this?" she asked, eyes narrowing."He Ran—what are you doing?"
"Privacy," he said, walking toward her. "Since words in public don't seem to get through to you."
He stepped toward her, his tone low, serious. "You want me to admit I noticed Irene? I didn't. I only noticed you—storming out, your voice tight, your eyes… distant."
She stepped back slightly. "That doesn't mean—"
He didn't let her finish. He stepped in closer, his hands finding her waist. "Do you think I've been waiting five years just to let someone else come between us?"
Her eyes widened, breath catching in her throat. "He Ran…"
His lips brushed hers—light at first, then hungrier, needier. The tension, the silence, the longing—they all erupted in that moment. She melted into his touch, her hands gripping his shirt as he pulled her closer.
She broke the kiss first, breathless. "You're not allowed to do that... unless you mean it." "You think kissing me will fix your mistake?" she shot back.
He touched her cheek softly. "I've always meant it. You just never let me say it."
He stopped right in front of her, close enough to feel his breath.
"Irene was trying to get a reaction. She got one—but not from me."She finally turned to face him, her voice sharp but quiet.
"Did you see how she touched your sleeve three times during the meeting? Three. And smiled like she owned you."
He Ran raised a brow, clearly amused. "So, you were counting?"
"I wasn't counting," she snapped. "It was just… obvious."
She tried to turn, but he caught her wrist gently.
"You punished me all day," he said, voice low. "Now let me answer."
Before she could object, his lips met hers—firm, desperate, full of weeks of silent tension. Her breath hitched, but she didn't push him away. Her hands, traitors of her own pride, clutched the front of his shirt.
She broke away first. "This is wrong..."
"But it feels more right than anything else," he whispered, pressing his forehead against hers. "You think I've forgotten you. Shen Miao, I've been aching for five years."
Her heart thudded. The walls she'd built started to crumble.
"I hated seeing her touch you," she admitted, voice small. "I hated how you didn't even blink."
"I was looking at you," he said. "I always have been."
For a moment, the room was just theirs—no noise, no expectations, no past regrets.
She whispered, "What happens now?"
He smiled, brushing her hair behind her ear. "We stop pretending."
The room was quiet again. She didn't reply, only let her head rest against his chest. The sound of his heartbeat comforted her, grounding her, even as her world spun.
"Irene will ask questions," she said softly.
"Let her," he replied. "She doesn't have the right to any of my answers."
Shen Miao finally smiled, the first real one all day.
He Ran leaned back in his office chair after Shen Miao wave out. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips—not because she was angry, but because he'd seen that look before. Years ago.
—Flashback Begins—
It was their high school's Sports Day. Shen Miao had signed up for the 400-meter race just to skip chemistry class, not because she had any desire to run. And He Ran—already the school's favorite golden boy—was one of the organizers.
Shen Miao, on the other hand, was a mess in motion—wearing a track pant two sizes too big, her hair in a rebellious ponytail that bounced more than her spirit. She hadn't signed up for the race out of love for running. She signed up because it meant skipping Mr. Lu's never-ending chemistry class.
"I didn't know ghosts could run," He Ran teased as she walked past him to the lineup.
She scowled. "I didn't know you were qualified to talk with a clipboard and zero muscles."
That made him laugh. "Touché."
Then it happened.
Meilin from Class B strutted up with her usual dramatic flair—lip balm, eyeliner, and the swagger of someone who believed she was the school's main character. She twirled her ponytail and waved at He Ran, batting her lashes.
"Hi, Ran," she said, drawing out his name like it was candy. "Good luck organizing. You always look so serious when you're focused... it's cute."
Shen Miao narrowed her eyes. "Is she running?"
He Ran blinked. "Uh, yeah. Next heat."
She glared at him. "I want to beat her," she added, nodding at a girl named Meilin who was fluttering her lashes at He Ran like her life depended on it.
"She said your name is written in her diary with glitter pens," Shen Miao muttered under her breath.
He looked at her with a grin. "You jealous?"
"No," she snapped. "But if she trips on her shoelace, that'd be great."
The whistle blew. Shen Miao took off running—but halfway through, she looked back to glare at Meilin for getting too close to He Ran.
In doing so, she nearly collided with a pole and finished second.
As He Ran handed her a water bottle, laughing uncontrollably, she snatched it from him.
"I blame you."
"I didn't do anything!"
"You exist. That's enough."
---
He Ran chuckled to himself, still seated in his office.
Some things hadn't changed. Shen Miao was still the same. Jealous, sharp-tongued, and always losing her rhythm when someone else tried to get close to him.
And he still loved it.