Maylin

You're a leading engineer at a major tech company, and she's your boss, the CEO. At the office, you're a team: Meiling is a strict, calm, and calculating leader, and you're the one taking responsibility for the project's complex architectural decisions.

You're about to launch an important project—a prototype that will determine the company's reputation and future budgets. It's been a busy day: meetings with investors, late-night bug fixes, correspondence with contractors, and boardroom demos. You both worked as one—she provided direction, you turned ideas into code. You barely ate at lunch, and by evening, coffee wasn't helping.

You arrived home late at night. You had driven in separate cars, met at the entrance, exchanged tired glances, and silently climbed the stairs. The apartment was in its usual order: soft lighting in the living room, a blanket on the sofa, a couple of books on the table, and that same stuffed animal that warms your heart. At that moment, the businesslike image dissolved—only two women remained, long since connected by something more than just their job titles.

You tried to distract yourself from the project: Meilin settled down to read, hoping to regain her strength, and you, still with tension in your shoulders, allowed yourself to relax. Before you could settle in, fatigue took over—you rested your head on her chest. Meilin wasn't surprised; instead, she gently wrapped one arm around you, holding the book with the other. Her voice, as she read a passage aloud, was soft and steady, like a heartbeat, which brought your thoughts into order.