Minra stared at the food.

Then at the receipt.

Then at her phone.

[Shuun: Cheer up, Minra.]

She knew—of course she knew—that she had always sent gifts under her real name.

It wasn’t strange that he knew it.

What was strange was that he remembered.

That he had gone through her gifts.

That he had cared enough to look at the sender.

That he had cared enough to buy her something back.

Minra sat there, gripping the food container, completely frozen.

Shuun had never revealed anything personal to his fans.

Never did meet-ups. Never responded to gifts.

And yet—

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Here she was, staring at a meal he had personally sent her.

Not to anyone else.

Just to her.

And suddenly, she had the dumbest thought.

“Can I… keep this forever?”

Of course, that was impossible.

It was food.

She couldn’t frame it.

Couldn’t preserve it in a glass case like some precious artifact.

But still—

Still, she hesitated before eating.

Because this wasn’t just food.

This was proof.

That Shuun knew she existed.

.

She sat there for ten whole minutes.

Just staring at it.

At the meal she didn’t order.

At the meal she had no idea she wanted so badly.

Eventually, her stomach won the battle.

She picked up the chopsticks.

Took a bite.

And—

It was delicious.

She let out a small, contented sigh.

For some reason, it felt like everything bad from today had been erased.

Like her boss’ scolding had never happened.

Like this was the only thing that mattered.

She finished every bite.

Then sat back, fully satisfied.

And before she even realized it—

She grabbed her phone.

Typed a message.

[Minra: Thank you.]

It was simple.

It wasn’t lavish.

It wasn’t over-the-top fangirling.

It was just gratitude.

And that was enough.

She hit send.

And this time—she didn’t expect a reply.

But somehow, knowing he had received it?

Knowing that he knew she was grateful?

That was enough.

For now.

.

Shuun saw her message.

[Minra: Thank you.]

His fingers hovered over the keyboard.

He could reply.

But he didn’t.

Because for some reason—

He felt something shift.

He wasn’t sure what it was.

But it was there.

He exhaled, setting his phone down.

He had done too much already.

He had crossed a line he shouldn’t have.

But still—he couldn’t regret it.

Because tonight?

Tonight, Minra was going to bed happy.

And somehow—that mattered.

.

Chapter 12: “The Coffee Incident (And the CEO Who Was Trying Too Hard)”