A night to remember

"Well, well, what a pleasant surprise," Na-eun purred, her lips curling into a smile that sent a shiver through the dimly lit room. Her eyes glinted with a predatory gleam as she stepped forward, heels tapping like a countdown.

Ava and Leo stood back-to-back, their breaths shallow and synchronized. Ava's knuckles turned white as she clutched the leather-bound ledger to her chest, the supposed prize of their late-night heist.

"I see you've brought me my ledger," Na-eun continued, her voice as smooth as silk and twice as dangerous. "And here I thought no one would be interested in my... diet routine. Your skills are quite impressive, I must admit."

Before Ava could react, Na-eun's hand shot out, snatching the ledger from her grasp. Her nails, sharp and red as blood, scraped against the leather. She opened it with a flick of her wrist, then produced a sleek pen and signed her name with an elegant flourish.

"There you go," she cooed, holding the ledger back out to them, now adorned with her autograph. "A keepsake, since you're such devoted fans."

Her bodyguard, Park, cracked his knuckles. The sound echoed like breaking bones. "What should we do with them, ma'am? Should we take off their masks?"

Na-eun didn't even glance back. "No. Let them go. They only came for my diet routine, didn't they?"

Kang, another bodyguard with a glare that could curdle milk, stepped forward. "But ma'am, I'm sure they—"

"I said let them go." Her voice was a blade, and Kang immediately stepped back, muttering under his breath.

As the guards trailed after her, Kang shot them a parting scowl. "Come back here again, and I'll break you into pieces."

Once alone, Ava and Leo exchanged a look, the sting of failure heavy between them. They slipped through shadows until they reached the safety of home.

Inside, Carrie and Jae-wook sat at the dining table, their faces a mix of hope and worry.

"So, how did it go?" Carrie asked, leaning forward.

Ava dropped the ledger onto the table with a hollow thud. "Oh, it was marvelous. We even got Na-eun's personal signature. What a dream come true for any diet-obsessed fan."

"That bad, huh?" Carrie muttered. Her fingers danced nervously on the tabletop.

Leo flopped into a chair, rubbing his eyes. "All that for a useless ledger. She even applauded us. I've never felt more humiliated."

Carrie opened the ledger, her brow furrowing. "Did you even check what's inside?"

Ava shot her a look sharp enough to draw blood.

"Okay, understood," Carrie said, snapping the ledger shut.

Jae-wook, who had been silent, finally spoke. "You met Na-eun?" His voice was gentle, like the eye of a storm.

Ava sighed, the sound heavy with exhaustion. "Yeah, but don't worry. We were masked. She has no clue who we are."

Carrie's lips twisted into a smirk. "How come you're so nice to him?"

Ava didn't hesitate. "Because he actually cares." She turned on her heel and disappeared upstairs, her footsteps echoing with every ounce of frustration.

Leo rose, his expression softening. "It's been a long day, Carrie. We did our best, but this... this was a mess."

Jae-wook reached out, his hand resting on the ledger. "You brought something back, didn't you? That's more than most could do. You did well."

Leo managed a tired smile. "Thanks, mate. I'm gonna crash." He trudged to his room, his shoulders slumped.

The room seemed to deflate as they left, the air settling into an uncomfortable quiet. Carrie ran a hand through her hair, strands sticking to her damp forehead.

"I'm calling it a night too," she muttered, pushing away from the table. Her silhouette melted into the shadows as she followed the others upstairs, leaving Jae-wook alone.

He opened the ledger, his fingers tracing the ink of Na-eun's signature. His lips curved into a smile, but this one wasn't kind. It was knowing.

"She still cares about her looks at her age" he whispered to the empty room, his eyes glinting in the dim light.

---

Deep into the night, Carrie still couldn't sleep. The thought of dragging herself to work early gnawed at her, amplifying her restlessness. With a weary sigh, she rose from bed, slipping on her robe.

"Maybe a warm cup of milk will help," she murmured, her voice barely breaking the quiet.

As she descended the stairs, the dim glow from the sitting room caught her attention. There, shrouded in soft shadows, Jae-wook sat hunched over his work. His silhouette, still and consumed, seemed both haunting and achingly familiar. She paused, watching him, a mix of surprise and concern washing over her.

"You're still up? It's 2 a.m.," she said, her voice gentle yet surprised.

Without lifting his gaze, Jae-wook replied, "You're up too."

"At least I'm not working." She slipped into the kitchen, her mind lingering on him.

A few minutes later, Carrie returned, cradling two glasses of warm milk. She approached him and extended a glass, her gesture tender and unassuming.

"Thanks," Jae-wook said, accepting it without hesitation.

Carrie's brows rose in mild disbelief. "No joke about me slipping poison in it? You must really be out of it."

"Not really in the mood," he muttered, taking a small sip.

Her expression softened as she settled beside him. "Are you worried?"

"Just a bit... worked up." His voice held a quiet vulnerability.

Her lips curled into a soft smile. "You don't have to worry. Everything will be fine."

Jae-wook let out a dry chuckle. "Wow. That was... profoundly unhelpful."

Carrie didn't bite back. Instead, she leaned closer and, before he could react, pressed the back of her hand against his forehead. Her touch was cool and comforting. "Just as I thought—fever." She set her milk aside, her demeanor shifting into something more serious and nurturing. "How long?"

"Carrie, I don't have a fever. I'm just stressed. It's normal. My temperature's always a bit weird when I'm like this."

"Then don't be stressed."

He shot her a sideways glance, a hint of amusement dancing in his tired eyes. "Why didn't I think of that?"

Carrie's expression remained steady. "I can help. I used to do it for my dad when he was stressed."

Jae-wook raised an eyebrow, curiosity seeping through his fatigue. "And how do you plan on doing that?"

"First, you need to listen to me. No complaints."

A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "If it works, I'm all yours."

For a fleeting moment, Carrie's stoic expression cracked, a shy smile peeking through. She quickly composed herself. "Alright. Lean back."

He obeyed, his movements slow and trusting. As he reclined, Carrie moved closer, her fingers gently threading through his hair. His hair was impossibly soft, and the lingering scent of his shampoo enveloped her—a mix of warmth and comfort.

"It'll help if you close your eyes," she whispered.

Jae-wook exhaled, a long, quiet breath, and his eyes drifted shut.

Her fingers moved with a delicate rhythm, massaging his scalp. Each motion was tender, each touch soothing. She could feel the tension unravel beneath her fingertips. His breathing deepened, a sign that her efforts were working.

"Feeling better?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"More than I thought possible," he replied, his lips curving into a genuine smile. His face had softened, a serenity enveloping him. It was a look she had never seen before—so peaceful, so at ease.

Her heart fluttered, a gentle warmth spreading through her chest. It was strange, the way his calm seemed to flow into her, like the peace she had unknowingly sought was found in this quiet moment with him.

Soon, his breathing became slow and steady. He had fallen asleep. Carrie's hands stilled, reluctant to break the moment but knowing he needed the rest. She stood, moving softly, and reached for a nearby duvet. Draping it over him, she let her eyes linger on his sleeping form.

"Seeing him at peace makes me feel at peace too," she murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. Her touch was featherlight, filled with an affection she wasn't ready to name.

With one last gentle pat, she stepped away, slipping back into the stillness of the night, her heart a little fuller, her mind a little quieter.