Chairs scraped back and people started murmuring about follow-ups and timelines as the meeting wrapped. I gathered my notes, balancing the folder in one hand and my half-finished coffee in the other.
I turned to leave quietly hoping to slip out behind the rest—until a warm hand tugged the file out of my grip.
I blinked and turned slowly. "Sir?"
Adrien didn't even pause. "Your hand must hurt. Let me carry that."
Wait—what? He wants to carry my file, again!!
I stared at him like he'd grown an extra head. Was he… serious?
Was he actually speaking to me?
My brows pulled together. "Sorry?"
He didn't look at me directly, his gaze fixed somewhere past my shoulder, or perhaps at the folder itself. "It's heavy," he repeated, his voice low as if stating a fact.
The file was... a standard project file. Maybe ten pages? Not exactly a cinder block
I turned slightly just so I could make sure he wasn't talking to someone behind me. But nope. It was just me. Him and a room now empty.
