Zion’s POV
After the whirlwind encounter with the media, we're finally in the elevator, making our way up to my office on the top floor. As the elevator glides upwards, I find myself still holding her hand, almost instinctively. It's a gesture that feels so natural, but I can't help but wonder—does she actually enjoy this closeness, or is she just too shy to pull away?
Once we reached my office, I ushered her inside. The room is notably sparse, with only one chair present. In an attempt to make her comfortable, I offer her the chair, but my curiosity piques when I notice her spacing out. I can’t help but ask, “Are you okay?”
The question seemed to catch her off guard. “Me? I’m okay; you don’t have to worry about me,” she replies, though her voice lacks conviction. Her body language tell
