The Project
779 Words
Monday mornings at Nebula Designs weren’t so different from university lectures — half the team arrived in sneakers and hoodies, nursing overpriced lattes, while a few overachievers already had their laptops open.
Win had arrived early. He wanted to prove himself, especially with the Sojo project kickoff today. Sojo was a major cosmetics brand rebranding their entire digital identity — sleek, modern, and unapologetically bold. A dream client.
He was adjusting his desk setup when Phu entered, dressed in another high-collared shirt, this time navy. He had that same composed aura — like he didn’t need to try to command attention, it just happened.
“Good morning,” Win said, a bit too cheerfully.
Phu gave a small nod, barely looking up. “Morning.”
Belle arrived shortly after to lead the team meeting.
“Win, you’ll be assisting on the Sojo campaign — concept visuals, user interface design, and presentation materials. You’ll report directly to Khun Phu.”
Win nodded. “Understood.”
Phu finally looked at him. “You have two weeks. The client expects innovation.”
Win felt a flutter in his chest — part nerves, part excitement.
“I’ll do my best,” he said, holding Phu’s gaze a second too long.
---
That Afternoon
They worked in quiet intensity. Phu barely spoke, occasionally sliding his laptop screen over to Win for review. His critiques were precise — never unkind, but never sugarcoated.
“Your first draft is too safe,” he said, scanning Win’s UI wireframes. “Sojo wants bold. There is no minimalism for the sake of aesthetics. Show confidence.”
Win bit his lip. “Okay. I’ll redo it.”
He turned to his screen, trying not to feel too discouraged. Just as he was adjusting the layout again, Phu’s voice broke the silence.
“Your design sense is clean. But you're designing like you're asking for permission.”
Win looked up. “Meaning?”
Phu leaned back in his chair, finally giving Win his full attention. “Meaning… you need to stop trying to please everyone. Design like you want to make someone feel something.”
It was the first time Phu spoke with more than clinical distance. His eyes lingered a beat too long — not inappropriate but intense.
Win swallowed. “I’ll try.”
“No.” Phu’s voice dropped. “Don’t try. Do it.”
Win looked away, heart thumping in his chest.
There was something dangerous about Phu’s calm. Like the stillness of a storm just before lightning cracked.
---
After Hours
By 8 p.m., the office was nearly empty.
Win stayed behind to polish his revised draft. He wasn’t sure if Phu was still around — until he heard the door behind him click shut.
Footsteps.
Phu placed a fresh cup of coffee next to Win’s monitor.
“I don’t take bribes,” Win joked softly, glancing up.
Phu gave the smallest smile. “You’re not that cheap.”
Win chuckled nervously, taking the cup. Their fingers brushed — brief, but electric.
Win tried not to overthink it as he went back to his screen, but he could feel Phu watching.
“Sojo wants bold,” Win murmured aloud, half to himself. “But if I go too far, it’ll scare them off.”
Phu stepped closer, now behind him, looking over his shoulder. “Then balance it. Seduction isn't loud. It's subtle. Precise. Like… this.”
He reached over.
Win’s breath caught as Phu’s hand brushed over his, guiding the cursor across the screen, adjusting the color gradient — a deep plum sliding into fuchsia.
Their arms touched. Phu’s scent hit him again — woody, clean, a little musky.
Win felt the tension coiling low in his gut again.
Phu didn’t move away immediately.
His voice, soft now, was almost in his ear. “Better.”
Win turned slightly, their faces only inches apart. His voice was hoarse when he spoke.
“You’re good at this.”
Phu’s lips twitched into something unreadable. “I’ve been doing it longer than you’ve been out of school.”
“I’m not that young.”
“You’re young enough.”
That line hit something inside Win — not just embarrassment but intrigue.
“Then maybe you should stop looking at me like that,” Win whispered before he could stop himself.
Phu blinked. For a moment, the mask slipped — just a flicker. Desire? Surprise? Maybe both.
Then it was gone.
“I don’t mix work and play,” he said coolly.
Win swallowed his disappointment and turned back to the screen.
But Phu didn’t leave.
He leaned closer, his voice low again.
“But you’re tempting.”
- Writer
