Chapter 1: Terms and Conditions

Bright Vachirawit was the kind of CEO people whispered about in hallways—young, sharp, and terrifyingly efficient. His marketing empire, B-Squared, dominated the industry, and under his command, perfection wasn’t a goal—it was the bare minimum.

So when his assistant told him the new freelance designer he’d reluctantly agreed to hire had missed the first meeting, Bright nearly fired him before even learning his name.

“He’s a genius,” his assistant insisted. “A bit… unconventional, but worth it.”

Bright leaned back in his chair. “He better be.”

Nanon Korapat, meanwhile, couldn’t care less about CEOs who acted like they were gods. He liked to work alone, on his own time, in hoodies and cafés—not in glass towers with men who wore thousand-dollar suits and never smiled.

So when he finally did show up to the office the next morning—late, coffee in hand, headphones around his neck—Bright’s cold stare could’ve frozen a summer day.

“You’re late,” Bright said flatly.

Nanon blinked, unimpressed. “You’re early.”

And just like that, the war began.

For weeks, they clashed. Nanon refused to follow the rigid rules of Bright’s world, and Bright refused to lower his standards. But somehow, every time Bright reviewed Nanon’s work, he found himself pausing—because it was brilliant. Messy, unpredictable, annoyingly good.

And Nanon, despite his endless complaining, started noticing things about Bright too—the way he quietly stayed late to fix everyone’s mess, how he knew every employee’s name, how he never asked for praise but worked harder than anyone.

Neither would admit it, but something was shifting.

And it scared them both.

Chapter 2: Cracks in the Glass

The breaking point came during a major campaign launch. The project was falling apart—deadlines missed, the team exhausted. Tension filled the office.

Nanon stayed late to fix a last-minute design issue and found Bright alone, sleeves rolled up, fixing code on a glitching platform.

“Didn't know CEOs got their hands dirty,” Nanon muttered.

Bright didn’t look up. “Didn’t know freelancers could care enough to stay late.”

Silence.

Then Bright sighed and leaned back in his chair, the exhaustion finally showing. “This whole campaign is a mess.”

Nanon sat on the edge of the desk beside him, sipping his coffee. “You don’t always have to carry everything, you know.”

Bright looked at him then—really looked. “I don’t know how to do anything else.”

Nanon’s voice softened. “Maybe let someone help.”

For the first time, Bright didn’t argue.

And that night, between deadlines and quiet confessions, something changed.

Nanon reached for Bright’s hand, brushing his fingers softly.

“Do you hate me a little less now?” he teased.

Bright gave a rare smile. “Just a little.”

And that was enough.

Chapter 3: After the Pitch

The campaign launched successfully. Clients were thrilled. The team celebrated.

But Nanon didn’t come to the afterparty.

Bright noticed the silence in the office without him. He noticed the empty chair, the cold coffee mug, the way his chest ached with something too close to regret.

When he finally found Nanon back in his favorite café, hoodie on, sketching on his tablet, he didn’t waste time.

“You left,” Bright said.

Nanon didn’t look up. “The contract ended. Job’s done.”

Bright stepped closer. “Is that all it was to you?”

Nanon finally met his eyes, expression unreadable. “Wasn’t it to you?”

Bright hesitated, then shook his head. “No. It stopped being just a job a while ago.”

Nanon blinked, and Bright took a breath.

“I don’t care if you’re late. I don’t care if you break the rules. I just care if you’re not there.”

For a moment, neither spoke. Then Nanon smiled, slow and warm. “So… what now, CEO?”

Bright grinned. “We renegotiate the contract.”

Nanon chuckled. “Terms?”

Bright stepped closer, their fingers brushing. “Stay. Not as a freelancer. As… something more.”

And when Nanon leaned in and kissed him, Bright knew—

Deadlines could wait.

Because some things were worth breaking the rules for.

—The End.