Minho

The keyboard clicks finally stopped. Minho rubbed the bridge of his nose, staring blindly at the spreadsheet on his monitor. The coffee in his mug had gone cold two hours ago, leaving a dark, bitter ring at the bottom.

The glass door of his office pushed open. Jisung walked in and dropped a thick cardboard folder – the final one for today – onto the edge of the desk. It landed with a dull thud, sliding a few inches before stopping right next to Minho’s keyboard.

— That’s the last of the marketing analytics, Jisung announced, crossing his arms. — Are we done for today, or do you want me to alphabetize the archives just for fun?

Minho finally looked away from the screen, blinking to focus his vision. He took in Jisung’s slightly wrinkled dress shirt and the way he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

— Leave the archives alone, Minho said, leaning back in his chair. — Sit down for a second.

Jisung didn’t move immediately. He just raised an eyebrow, clearly calculating how much longer this was going to keep him from going home.

— My shift ended ten minutes ago, Mr. Lee.

— Just sit, Han.

Jisung let out a short breath and dropped into the armchair opposite the desk. He stretched his legs out, the formal posture he usually kept up during the day completely gone.

Minho picked up a pen, tapping it casually against the desk.

— Tomorrow is the last day of your probation period.

Jisung stopped fidgeting. He looked at Minho, waiting for the punchline or the official verdict.

— I haven't fired you yet, which is a miracle considering your attitude, Minho continued, his tone entirely casual. — But before HR processes the permanent contract, I need to know one thing.

Jisung leaned forward slightly, dropping the indifferent act for a split second.

Minho pointed the pen at him, his expression turning completely serious.

— Secretary Han, are you free tonight?