HEXELG

CAFFEINE & CODE
A GL slow-burn romance by HEXELG

She's just the barista.
She's the most feared CEO in the city.
Neither of them expected to become the most important part of each other's routine.

Rina Cha is shy, clumsy, and just trying to survive her shifts at Syntek Corp's elite café. Her idea of danger is spilling oat milk on a customer-not walking into the executive elevator and meeting Kira Yoon, the company's untouchable CEO.

Kira runs the tech empire like a machine-flawless, cold, and emotionless. She doesn't do distractions. Especially not flustered girls with crooked foam hearts on their lattes.

But somehow, Rina becomes her only exception.

Now, Rina is bringing Kira coffee every day... and something deeper is brewing between them. In a world of polished glass, power suits, and unspoken rules, can softness survive?

Or will Kira code her heart out of reach?

Caffeine & Code

Not wine. Not champagne. Just hot jasmine tea in Rina's apartment—simple, warm, and a little too full.

Kira sat on the couch like it might short-circuit if she touched anything.

Kira stared at the tea. "I've had a long week."

"You wrote a company-wide confession email."

"I don't believe in half-measures."

"And now you're… here."Rina smiled softly. "In my apartment."

Kira looked around like it was a foreign country. There were plants. Mismatched pillows. A cat magnet on the fridge that said "Take a nap, not a meeting."

They sat side by side. Close but not quite touching.

Then Rina shifted, tucking her legs beneath her.

"You don't have to pretend with me," she said.

Kira looked at her. Really looked.

"I'm not pretending," she whispered. "I just… don't know who I am when I'm not performing."

Rina took her hand, thumb brushing over her palm.

"Then let's figure that out together."

Kira's breath caught. "You're so calm about this."

"No I'm not," Rina laughed. "I've screamed into a pillow like… five times this week."

"You never have to ask," Rina said."But I like that you do."

Less like a crash, more like a connection.

Kira's hands were careful, reverent, like she was afraid of breaking something precious.

When they finally paused, foreheads touching, Kira whispered:

Rina's fingers brushed her cheek."You're doing just fine."

And for the first time in years, she let herself feel safe.

They lay tangled on the couch under a too-small blanket.

"My father was cold. Everything was numbers, legacy, efficiency. He told me I wasn't lovable—only useful."

"I think I want this. Not just you. But this version of me."

Safe Mode