Julian was always stubborn when it came to his priorities. No matter what, he had to finish his work first. But when he finally looked up and saw Karl lying lifelessly on the bed, his heart softened.
As he walked toward him, Karl turned his head and looked up. A faint smile tugged at his lips as he patted his lap gently, an unspoken invitation. Julian sighed, a quiet chuckle escaping him as he sat down. Karl immediately rested his head on Julian’s lap, eyes closing with a hint of relief.
Julian wrapped his arms around him in a gentle hug, brushing a soft kiss on his forehead. "You’re always so sweet... worried about me, aren’t you?" he whispered with a tender smile. "Don’t worry. I’ll take a nap now, okay?"
Karl felt a pang of guilt in his chest, but the warmth of Julian’s voice made him feel safe. Julian suddenly began pinching Karl’s cheeks playfully, making him squirm.
"Why are you doing that?" Karl asked with a grumble, eyes half-open, clearly offended but too cozy to move.
"Because you’re too cute," Julian laughed, finally letting go and leaning back. He lay down beside Karl, exhaling deeply. "Alright, nap time."
Karl closed his eyes and pretended to sleep, but the moment he heard the soft rhythm of Julian’s breathing turning into gentle snores.
Karl opened one eye slowly... just enough to check if the snoring was real.
Julian had finally fallen asleep—his breathing calm, his features relaxed, his arms curled around the pillow like a gentle ghost burrito.
Karl stared for a moment, his pout slowly softening.
"...I won," he whispered smugly.
He carefully sat up, taking the blanket and draping it over Julian with slow, quiet hands. "You’re the cutest when you’re not alphabetizing spices," he muttered under his breath, brushing Julian’s bangs from his face.
Then, as if he’d just completed a secret mission, Karl tiptoed back toward the door... and immediately stubbed his toe.
Julian stirred slightly.
Karl froze mid-hop, clutching his foot and biting his tongue.
Karl let out a silent sigh of relief, then limped dramatically out of the room like a soldier returning from battle.
His mission was complete.
And now Karl could finally sneak off for his own secret plan.
After all... he had a surprise to prepare.
Ruby was scribbling through her notebook, crossing out two meetings and pushing her fabric inventory review to next week. Her eyes scanned the rest of the week—tight, but manageable. If she left early the day after tomorrow, she could visit the fabric farming village and return by evening, hopefully convincing them to work with her.
"Looks like it’s time I finally hire a personal assistant," she muttered, resting her chin on her palm. The paperwork, design sketches, supplier calls, product launches, accounting logs—she was doing it all. And it was getting to her. Her head had been pounding the last few days from trying to handle everything alone.
Just as she was lost in thought, a sharp knock on her office door pulled her back.
"Come in," she called, straightening up.
A young ghost with a small notebook peeked in, slightly breathless. "Miss Ruby, sorry to bother you, but Team 1 and Team 2 are having trouble with the fabric color consistency. They say it looks different in natural and artificial light."
Ruby stood immediately, sliding her chair back. "Show me."
She followed him out to the open workspace, where bolts of a shimmering pale green fabric lay sprawled out on the long tables. Everyone had gathered around in a mild panic, holding swatches under lamps, then rushing to the windows to check it in daylight.
Ruby crossed her arms, eyes narrowing as she studied the fabric. She could see the issue instantly—the dye wasn’t holding the undertone properly. In warm light, it looked minty. In cool light, almost grey.
"We can’t release this as-is," she said firmly. "Hold this design back from production. I’ll speak with the supplier again."
Then she turned to the group.
"Also—someone remind me to schedule a material training session next week. You all are doing amazing, but I don’t want your efforts wasted just because the fabric behaves differently under lighting."
The team nodded in agreement, visibly relieved at her presence.
As she turned back toward her office, she muttered under her breath again, "Yup. Definitely time for a personal assistant."
Back in her office, Ruby closed the door with a sigh and dropped into her chair like her soul had just left her body.
She reached toward her desk drawer to grab her design notebook—the one where she sketched all the prototypes for the monsoon collection. Her fingers brushed paper...then paused.
Her brows furrowed. She opened the second drawer. Nothing. The third. Just invoices. Fourth—old pens, cloth samples, a crumpled chocolate wrapper.
Ruby stood up, now mildly annoyed.
She started opening every cabinet, shuffling through books, flipping through files like a madwoman. Her neatly arranged office was slowly beginning to look like a storm had passed through.
"Where is it??" she muttered under her breath, fingers darting from shelf to shelf. She even checked beneath her chair.
Finally, with a sigh of pure frustration, she dropped to her knees and yanked open the bottom-most file cabinet.
There, buried under a stack of client folders and production receipts, was her notebook. Crushed but intact.
"How did you end up here?" she groaned, pulling it out and dusting it off. She pressed the spine flat and flipped it open to see if the pages were still readable.
But her head was throbbing now.
She slumped into her chair, shut her eyes for a moment, and rubbed her temples.
"I need help. Or a clone. Or three assistants. Or sleep. Or Tea. Maybe all of them."
She reached for the cold water bottle and took a long sip, then placed her hand over the notebook as if guarding it from vanishing again.
This was going to be a long day.
—To be continued...🪄