His Basement, His Office - Chapter 8: Chapter 8
You are reading His Basement, His Office, Chapter 8: Chapter 8. Read more chapters of His Basement, His Office.
That night, I surrendered myself completely to Maxwell, and we crossed that final threshold together.
From that moment on, we didn't need dreams to bridge our longing—our fates were already intertwined.
Whenever people asked Maxwell if he was seeing someone, he'd just grin and say, "I've got a jealous little puppy waiting for me at home. Sorry, folks."
The office didn't make a big deal about us dating—just a few playful grumbles about losing two of the company's most eligible bachelors.
And every time, without fail, they'd catch me bringing Maxwell lunch… only to emerge later with kiss-swollen lips.
Tsk tsk. So shameless, doing that in broad daylight!
This year, I finally took Maxwell home to meet my mom. She didn't outright reject the idea of us, but her attitude toward him was… chilly, to say the least.
Somehow, though, Maxwell worked his magic—because before I knew it, she was actually smiling at him.
Baffled, I demanded to know his secret. He just smirked and rubbed his fingers together in the universal sign for money talks.
Me: "…Of course."
Later, I handed Maxwell half a pack of sparklers.
"They say if you make a wish while holding one, it'll come true," I murmured, the flickering light casting soft shadows across my face.
Maxwell leaned in, his breath warm against my ear. "What'd you wish for?"
I shot him a look. "If you say it out loud, it won't happen. Everyone knows that."
But I told him anyway. "I wish Maxwell would stop doubting himself so much."
Predictably, he gave me that what-are-you-talking-about stare.
I sighed. "You're ridiculously handsome. Why would I ever leave you for someone else? They probably wouldn't even be as rich as you—or know how to wash dishes properly."
Then I paused, eyes widening in mock horror. "…Wait. Actually, now that I think about it, I'm the one who's punching above my weight here."
Maxwell: "…?"
With a quiet laugh, he lit his own sparkler. "I'm the lucky one," he murmured. "Getting to keep this adorable puppy all to myself."
His gaze softened. "Will puppy always love Maxwell?"
I grinned. "Puppy will always love Maxwell… because Maxwell gives the best hugs."
Tilting my head, I countered, "Then will Maxwell always love his puppy?"
He couldn't hold back his laughter.
"Always. Because puppy gives the best kisses."
Somewhere in the distance, fireworks burst across the sky.
The strongest love doesn't need tests or trials. When it's right—when it's real—it just fits, effortlessly completing the missing pieces of your life.
From that moment on, we didn't need dreams to bridge our longing—our fates were already intertwined.
Whenever people asked Maxwell if he was seeing someone, he'd just grin and say, "I've got a jealous little puppy waiting for me at home. Sorry, folks."
The office didn't make a big deal about us dating—just a few playful grumbles about losing two of the company's most eligible bachelors.
And every time, without fail, they'd catch me bringing Maxwell lunch… only to emerge later with kiss-swollen lips.
Tsk tsk. So shameless, doing that in broad daylight!
This year, I finally took Maxwell home to meet my mom. She didn't outright reject the idea of us, but her attitude toward him was… chilly, to say the least.
Somehow, though, Maxwell worked his magic—because before I knew it, she was actually smiling at him.
Baffled, I demanded to know his secret. He just smirked and rubbed his fingers together in the universal sign for money talks.
Me: "…Of course."
Later, I handed Maxwell half a pack of sparklers.
"They say if you make a wish while holding one, it'll come true," I murmured, the flickering light casting soft shadows across my face.
Maxwell leaned in, his breath warm against my ear. "What'd you wish for?"
I shot him a look. "If you say it out loud, it won't happen. Everyone knows that."
But I told him anyway. "I wish Maxwell would stop doubting himself so much."
Predictably, he gave me that what-are-you-talking-about stare.
I sighed. "You're ridiculously handsome. Why would I ever leave you for someone else? They probably wouldn't even be as rich as you—or know how to wash dishes properly."
Then I paused, eyes widening in mock horror. "…Wait. Actually, now that I think about it, I'm the one who's punching above my weight here."
Maxwell: "…?"
With a quiet laugh, he lit his own sparkler. "I'm the lucky one," he murmured. "Getting to keep this adorable puppy all to myself."
His gaze softened. "Will puppy always love Maxwell?"
I grinned. "Puppy will always love Maxwell… because Maxwell gives the best hugs."
Tilting my head, I countered, "Then will Maxwell always love his puppy?"
He couldn't hold back his laughter.
"Always. Because puppy gives the best kisses."
Somewhere in the distance, fireworks burst across the sky.
The strongest love doesn't need tests or trials. When it's right—when it's real—it just fits, effortlessly completing the missing pieces of your life.
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