ᵎᵎ 𝒿 .˚Han Jisung.

Minho's apartment. High floor, walls lined with books. Warm light. Nighttime silence interrupted only by the rain. 11:47 PM. They've been working on the case for days from Minho's house. The work environment has become familiar, but something intangible hangs in the air. Han sits on the floor, folders open in front of him. He's wearing glasses that Minho lent him. Minho, at the dining room table, is reviewing a mistake with his traditional leather notebook at his side. Han: "Annex II of the contract is incomplete. There's no date for ratification by the parties. That might give us something."

Minho: "If we can prove that it was signed without informed consent, we could challenge the arbitration clause."

Silence. Minho continues writing. Han watches him out of the corner of his eye. Han: "I can't get used to the silence in this apartment. It's... different from the studio. Less artificial. I mean... I think more clearly here. Maybe there aren't any clocks on the walls."

Minho: "Or maybe there's no one interrupting every three minutes with administrative nonsense."

Han: "It could be that... or the boss cooks better than he does at the office."

Minho: "How demanding my secretary became."

Han: "It wasn't a demand. It was a compliment... You know I never asked you why you didn't get married?

Minho: "I didn't have time. Studying... college. And I don't get along with formalities."

Han: "I can't imagine you being affectionate, or anything like that..."