It didn't take long for Lina to realize something important:
Everyone was afraid of Adrian Hale.
It wasn't just respect.
It was something deeper.
More cautious.
More careful.
Employees spoke in hushed tones whenever his name came up. Movements became precise when he was nearby. Even laughter felt controlled—as if any sign of carelessness might be noticed… and punished.
"He hasn't smiled in years," one employee whispered.
"He fired someone just for being late," another added.
Lina blinked, listening quietly.
Wait… what?
She glanced toward Adrian's office.
The glass walls made it easy to see him—sitting at his desk, focused, unreadable. Completely absorbed in his work, like the world outside didn't exist.
Untouchable.
Unapproachable.
"…He smiled yesterday," Lina murmured under her breath.
"What?" a nearby employee asked.
"Nothing!" she said quickly, shaking her head.
But she knew what she saw.
It had been small.
Barely noticeable.
But it was real.
Later that day—
Lina stepped into his office to clean.
She moved carefully at first, making sure not to disturb him. Every motion was quiet, deliberate, respectful of the space he occupied.
But after a few minutes—
"You don't have to tiptoe."
Lina froze slightly.
"I—sorry…"
"I can work with noise."
"Oh. Okay."
She relaxed a bit after that, her movements becoming more natural. The tension in her shoulders eased as she continued cleaning, no longer worrying about making every step silent.
A few moments passed in comfortable quiet.
Then—
"Why are you always smiling?"
Lina blinked.
"…Huh?"
Adrian didn't look up from his papers when he spoke.
But his question wasn't dismissive.
It was genuine.
Curious.
"You smile often."
Lina tilted her head slightly, considering the question.
"I guess…" she said slowly, "it's easier than being sad."
That made him pause.
Just for a second.
But it was enough.
"My life isn't exactly easy," she continued, wiping the surface gently, her tone steady, "but if I stay gloomy all the time, it just feels heavier."
Silence followed.
Not uncomfortable.
Just thoughtful.
"…That's inefficient," Adrian said.
Lina paused mid-motion.
"…Excuse me?"
"Emotionally inefficient."
For a moment—
she just stared at him.
Then—
she laughed.
Soft.
Warm.
Genuine.
The sound filled the quiet office, lightening the space in a way nothing else had.
And for the first time—
Adrian looked up.
Not briefly.
Not distractedly.
But fully.
His eyes settled on her, studying her expression—the ease, the warmth, the quiet strength behind something so simple.
"…You're strange," he said.
There was no judgment in his tone.
Just observation.
"Maybe," Lina replied with a small grin, "but at least I'm a happy strange."
He didn't respond.
Didn't argue.
Didn't dismiss it.
But something in the room had shifted.
Subtly.
Quietly.
When Lina finished and walked out of the office—
the atmosphere lingered.
Not heavy.
Not tense.
But… lighter.
Warmer.
And for reasons he didn't fully understand—
Adrian found himself thinking about her words.
About her smile.
About the way she carried something difficult—
without letting it define her.
And for the first time—
he didn't just notice Lina.
He felt her presence stay with him.
Long after she had left the room.