The next morning, Aiden woke up tangled in his bedsheets and fur.
The kitten, which he had lovingly named Miso, was firmly planted on his chest, tiny paws pressed into his skin, as if refusing to let him go. He tried to gently shift the cat, but Miso meowed, clung to his shirt, and nuzzled deeper.
Aiden sighed.
"I have to go to work, little guy…"
Ten minutes of pleading, three pieces of cat kibble, and a gentle promise later, Aiden finally managed to leave Miso curled up in a warm blanket on the couch.
He arrived at the company a little breathless, carrying his sketch tablet and nerves. He made his way toward the CEO's office—Sion's office.
But when he pushed the door gently open, it was empty.
He stepped inside slowly, wondering if he had come too early. Maybe Sion was—
A hand touched his back.
Aiden flinched and turned around, heart in his throat.
There he was.
Sion.
Unbothered, composed, and holding between his fingers… a few strands of white fur.
"Do you have a cat?" Sion asked, brows raised.
Aiden blinked, caught. "…Yeah. I found him yesterday. He sort of… moved in."
Sion smirked and let the fur fall to the floor. "I figured. This was on your back."
Before Aiden could reply, Sion turned and gestured to the table. "Let's start."
The morning hours blurred as Sion began outlining the character he wanted Aiden to create.
"It should be someone powerful, elegant. With sharp eyes. He has a royal past, but now he lives in a world that doesn't remember him. He's cold but secretly emotional. His weapon should be a long blade—but he rarely uses it."
Aiden kept nodding, scribbling notes, glancing up every so often.
Two hours in, his head was spinning from the amount of detail. And Sion was still going.
"…His clothes should be old-fashioned, but not outdated. Something timeless. Symbolic. Maybe red and gold. His smile should feel like he's teasing fate…"
"…"
Sion paused mid-sentence and leaned forward slightly.
"Are you mute?" he asked, dryly.
Aiden's eyes widened. "N-No!"
"Then do you not have words in your vocabulary?"
Aiden flustered, mouth parting. "I just—uh—"
"I've been talking for hours. You've said nothing beyond 'okay' and 'got it.' Is this how you work?"
Panicked, Aiden blurted the first excuse that came to mind:
"I didn't eat breakfast!"
Sion tilted his head. "What?"
"I-I'm conserving energy. That's why I'm quiet."
There was a long pause. Aiden wished the floor would swallow him.
Then Sion stood.
"…Let's eat."
"…Huh?"
"You need fuel to work. Let's eat breakfast."
Before Aiden could argue, Sion was already walking toward the elevator.
"Wait—now?" Aiden asked, standing up in a scramble.
"Yes. Now."
With that, they exited the office and entered the lift.
The moment the doors closed, Aiden could feel Sion's presence even more clearly—tall, confident, quietly intense. He stood beside Aiden, hands in his pockets, eyes on the numbers climbing above the door.
And Aiden?
He glanced sideways, catching the edge of a smile on Sion's lips.
It felt… familiar.
Too familiar.
As if the world hadn't changed at all.
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