Chapter Text
It’s no secret that Artem is a genius. As the youngest person in Stellis to become a senior attorney, the firm has attracted hordes of clients seeking his services despite his higher-than-average hourly billing rates. Themis Law Firm may be a relatively new firm and much smaller compared to the bigger, reputable and more established ones in Stellis, but Artem’s presence has made it a force to be reckoned with in this industry.
And yet, despite being perhaps one of the finest lawyers of his time, the Artem you know is quite something else altogether. You don’t really know how to explain it. Sure, he’s your boss and you admire his work ethic, intelligence, wit, charisma… the list could go on and on. But over the past few weeks it’s become evident that even geniuses like Artem lack in some ways.
In Artem’s case, the area of lack is painfully obvious.
“So what kind of man are you into? We’ve all shared, it’s your turn now.” Celestine is sitting on the edge of your desk, a playful smirk on her lips as she sips her coffee.
“Well… I don’t know…” Your words trail off as your eyes dart towards the pantry, where you spot the familiar back of your boss who’s trying very hard to blend into the side of the fridge at the moment. Needless to say, he’s not doing a very good job. He’s been stirring that cup of coffee for the past ten minutes now—yes, you’ve been keeping track ever since you noticed him come to the pantry for coffee despite having a coffee machine in his own office—and you’ve already spotted him glancing over in your direction at least twice when he thought you weren’t looking.
It’s been like this for the past few weeks. You didn’t really pick up on the signs at first: Artem leaving work almost always at the same time that you do, your conversations about work almost always ending with personal questions to get to know your likes and dislikes, and the unusual number of times he would walk out of his office a day to pay a visit to the pantry, only to leave empty-handed.
But one incident became two, two became four, and it didn’t take much brainpower to figure out that he was oddly interested in matters involving you. It doesn’t matter if it’s about work or about your personal life, he seems to want to know everything, but especially about your love life and love interests.
If the fact that he’s been not-so-subtly eavesdropping on your conversations with Kiki and Celestine in the office isn’t clear enough, then nothing will be.
You could just clear the air with him directly, although there’s that lingering fear of, “What if he isn’t actually interested?” It’s not like you can read his mind; maybe he’s just doing this shoddy spywork in an attempt to know his employees better. Something about employee welfare and morale building maybe—you wouldn’t put it past him.
But then you think about it deeper and realise it can’t be, especially not when Celestine isn’t that subtle either with her pointed glances in your direction before staring straight at Artem with a smirk on her lips. She obviously knows what Artem is up to and is in on it somehow, which might be why lately she’s been asking you all sorts of questions relating to your love life whenever Artem happens to stroll into the pantry yet again.
Just like that three weeks have passed, and you still haven’t gotten around to talking to Artem about it. It’s not for a lack of guts; really, it’s not. It’s just… it’s quite amusing to see Artem Wing, the youngest senior attorney in Stellis, a brilliant mind who usually has the answers to every legal problem, at a complete and utter loss.
“The kind of guy I like… I think I’ll know when I meet him...” The answer is deliberately vague, which makes Kiki groan and Celestine click her tongue in dissatisfaction. Your attention, however, is focused on the back figure of your boss whose head is now drooping like a wilted flower.
“...and I think I’ve found one.”
In that instant, his head perks up, as do Kiki’s and Celestine’s. They begin to badger you for details, but your stubborn lips won’t budge. When you hear footsteps coming from the pantry, you allow your eyes to dart upwards only once, and you see Artem’s usual cool demeanour and straight face as he returns to his office.
Your lips curl into a tiny smirk when you notice that the mug of cold coffee is still sitting on the pantry counter.
She found one…
The sentence she just said is playing over like a broken record in his head, much like when he’s mulling over a witness’ statement when preparing for a cross-examination.
Does that mean she’s met someone who might be her type? Or is she already dating someone?
No wait, it can’t be the latter. She just told Celestine last week that she wasn’t seeing anyone because she’s “married to work”.
A chuckle spills past his lips before he realises it—that’s the kind of thing he tells his relatives when they pester him about not having a girlfriend at his age.
His smile quickly fades however, when he remembers the dilemma he’s in. Her answer left no room for him to guess what kind of guy she likes, let alone whether he fits into that box. And the fact that she’s found someone who’s her type… Does that mean he’s already lost the battle before he could even try?
A knock on his office door jolts him out of his reverie, and he barely has time to clear his throat and fix his tie before Celestine enters the room. There’s only one reason she comes into his office when he doesn’t call her in, and it’s written all over her amused face.
“I think she noticed you in the pantry this time. You stood there for way too long—even Kiki was starting to notice.”
Artem groans, leaning back in his seat and turning away so Celestine won’t have to see him crumble internally and wallow in shame. First, she has a type, and now she’s noticed him needlessly hanging around the pantry, suspecting that he’s been eavesdropping on her conversations (which he has). She must think poorly of him now.
“Don’t look so down, I think you still have a shot.”
“What shot?” he asks with a sigh, fumbling with the knot of his tie to loosen it. “She’s already found someone who’s her type.”
“She never said she was dating him. She could just be, you know...” Celestine waves her hand in a gesture that Artem can’t understand, “...making a general statement of some sort. Point is, you can still try. Don’t give up.”
“As a lawyer, shouldn’t you be advising your client to give up if there are better alternative modes of settlement?”
His know-it-all response is not appreciated, and Celestine folds her arms across her chest, glowering at him. “Artem. She’s not a case that you need to solve. This is about love! Romance! The heart! Read a book about it, will you?”
“I have, but nothing has worked so far. The advice in the book is at best ineffective, at worst a hoax.” He glares at the book on his desk, and Celestine follows his gaze to it before she recognises it as the book she’d given him a few weeks back.
For the first time since coming in, her gaze turns into something more sympathetic. Artem isn’t sure he appreciates the sentiment.
“Trust me on this, Artem. Don’t give up yet. I really think you still have a chance.”
“I do?” He perks up at that, raising a brow. “Did she say something about me?”
“Not exactly…” Celestine grimaces when he starts sulking again. “But it’s a woman’s intuition. Trust me. I know her better than you do.”
At his prolonged silence, she adds, “We both know my intuition is way more reliable than your gut feelings when it comes to relationship advice.”
The silence lingers on for a few more minutes, before Artem finally relents with a sigh. He doesn’t say anything however, merely fixing his tie and picking up the book from his desk to put in his drawer.
“...You really should get back to work now.”
“Got it, boss.” Her tone is patronising as always, and she throws what’s probably meant to be an encouraging smile his way before she finally leaves him alone to his thoughts, although Artem can’t help but wonder if she’s still laughing at him internally.
In his now quiet office, his breathing is the only thing that can be heard. He picks up his pen and flips open the case file he was reading earlier before he left to visit the pantry.
But then not even a minute passes before his office is filled with the repeated sound of a pen clicking, a dejected sigh… and then the sound of his drawer opening once more.