By Zephyria 
I silently patted her shoulder, my gaze fixed on the prosecutor. The prosecutor groaned and then sighed deeply.
“Please wait. We will do our best. It’s a difficult fight, but we won’t give up…”
“Really? Can I trust you, Prosecutor?”
She asked repeatedly, her voice filled with tears. The prosecutor nodded, looking reluctant. She wiped away her tears with a handkerchief, repeatedly expressing her gratitude.
“Please, I beg you. Please clear my child’s name. Please, I beg you.”
She bowed to the prosecutor and me in turn, wiping away tears as she stood up. I escorted her to the door and only turned back to the prosecutor after closing it. He raised both hands as if to say he couldn’t help it. I gave a short nod and left his office.
The hallway was empty. I loosened my tight tie and walked on.
I thought I had to have a drink today.
3｜
“Hey, Chrissy!”
I turned my head at the sound of my name being called from behind. Doug, who had just gotten out of the elevator, waved and ran over.
“I heard you got the grand jury date? Did you see the newspaper? You look good in the picture.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
I blinked my tired eyes and answered casually. I had drunk too much at the bar the night before. I didn’t have the energy to buy and read the newspaper in the morning. At least meeting a decent guy and having a little fun helped relieve my stress. He kept tempting me to go all the way, but I politely refused. That was all I wanted.
Maybe I should have given him a blow job.
I blankly tried to remember what the guy looked like as I walked on. Then Doug walked alongside me and continued.
“The Smiths, you know, their parents called the prosecutor to ask him to take care of them. They have no idea that the prosecutor told you to negotiate a plea bargain… It’s ridiculous, isn’t it?”
I asked Doug, who was giving a bitter smile.
“How did you know about the plea bargain?”
He replied as if it were obvious.
“Everyone knows that, right?”
There was nothing to say since it was obvious. I walked on in silence and then slowly opened my mouth.
“Most criminal cases end that way.”
It is rare to go to trial without negotiation. Doug chuckled at my belated reply.
“You’re not normal either, insisting on proceeding when everyone is against it.”
I answered honestly.
“I just didn’t want to try to get out of it.”
“Because justice is fair to everyone?”
Doug recited the words I had said to the reporters in front of the courthouse. I glanced at him sideways, and Doug laughed. I didn’t say anything and kicked his leg.
“Ouch.”
Doug, who almost fell over, hurriedly grabbed the wall to regain his balance. He soon surrendered to my glare instead of a warning.
“Anyway, it’s a good start, and the public opinion is favorable. Well, the real game is just beginning.”
Doug added in a light tone.
“Do your best until the end. I’ll be cheering for you.”
Doug, who had raised his fist and said “Fighting,” soon went into his office. I greeted an employee who was coming towards me and headed to my office. I think I greeted a couple more people while walking down the hallway. The atmosphere was definitely more friendly than usual. As proof, everyone who passed by gave me words of encouragement. In fact, if it weren’t for the pressure of overwork and taxes, I wouldn’t be happy with this kind of negotiation, where I compromise with criminals. Especially in cases where the weak are unilaterally condemned.
Click…
When I opened the door familiarly, an unfamiliar scent brushed the tip of my nose.
…What is this?
I paused for a moment. It was a smell I had never smelled before. It wasn’t an artificial smell like perfume or air freshener. But it wasn’t the familiar stale smell of my office or the musty smell of the piles of documents.
If I had to say, it was fragrant.
A faint scent brushed the tip of my nose. A strangely heart-fluttering fatigue. What is this scent?
I slowly opened the door, feeling a strange mixture of anxiety, anticipation, and curiosity. My narrow field of vision gradually widened, and finally, the entire scene inside the office came into view.
I had never seen the tall figure from behind before. I unconsciously stopped and stared at the intruder who had entered my office.
The man was standing in front of my desk, looking down at the carelessly placed documents. The Suit, with its subtle sheen, enveloped his entire body, and he was surprisingly tall. He might be over 7 feet tall. I unconsciously held my breath.
Nevertheless, the man simply tilted his head slightly and did not bother to bend over to look at the documents.
I suddenly thought I had seen that Suit in an advertisement. An advertisement where a famous model was surfing in a Suit. And he walked out refreshed and went straight to work.
With the advertising copy of ‘The Suit that doesn’t get wet’.
The man, who looked like he had just walked out of the ocean, was perfectly clean without any wetness, but I could still easily imagine him wet. At the same time, my heart started pounding.
The silver blonde hair, shining silver in the early morning sunlight, was perfectly in place. The nape of his neck, revealed under his short-cropped hair, was long and strong, and one hand was naturally in his pants pocket below his long arms that went down through his perfectly right-angled shoulders. The other hand was gently pressing down on the documents on the desk with the tips of his fingers, and the soft but firm veins were prominent on the back of his hand.
I shifted my gaze past his waist, which had no fat, to the part of his shapely butt that was hidden under the Suit jacket but secretly revealed thanks to the hand in his pocket, and then to his endlessly long legs, and the man slowly raised his head.
His impeccable Suit, perfectly equipped with a vest, and his dust-free Oxford shoes came into view. When I hurriedly looked up, the man’s and my eyes met for the first time.
I frowned for a moment because of the sunlight shining behind him. It was then that I realized.
His eyes were purple.
His lips slowly opened. When I unconsciously fixed my gaze on his red lips, which contrasted with his almost silver hair, he said in a languid, low voice.
“Chrissy Jin?”
The language that flowed from his mouth gently caressed my ear. His voice was even deeper and lower than I had imagined. I felt a chill down my spine and widened my eyes. When he saw my silent reaction, he reached into his Suit pocket and took out his wallet.