https://open.spotify.com/track/07e9xoNAVcIclg4GhOMOgG?si=MsdwIqklR3uGKSvaWg2-Ng

The reality of life was that hell and heaven could exist simultaneously, sometimes separated by a mere layer of wall and concrete. Sometimes, it was defined by a piece of paper.

Twenty-one floors below, Helio Nathaniel was probably in heaven. He was holding a celebration party for his tenth year in the industry—using the money he acquired through the contract marriage that turned one's life into hell. Twenty-one floors above the ground, where one could almost see through the clouds, Ivanka Anastasia was trapped in hell. She left the party early, not feeling the joy of seeing people dancing on her invisible suffering.

The balcony of Helio Nathaniel's penthouse had become her best friend, almost like a second bedroom. Everything felt less suffocating when she stood there, leaning on the glass railings. The ceiling of the penthouse was high enough for an extravagant chandelier, but often, she felt like there wasn't enough oxygen for her lungs. Sometimes, she missed her old apartment. It was only half the size of this place, yet every corner breathed life to her face. A potted monsterra would greet her as soon as she opened the door, followed by a relaxing scent of roses and peony. Her favorite spot was her working desk. On the corner, she'd see a printed picture of her, holding a bouquet of tulips on Hedera's release day. Beside it was a smaller frame of her childhood picture with her mother, Camelia Hedera.

Suddenly she missed everything.

"What are you weeping for again now?" was Helio Nathaniel's annoyed comment the moment he found Ivanka Anastasia crying at the balcony. He hung his blazer around her exposed shoulders like they were a hanger. Shortly, he leaned onto the railings, just right beside her, propping with one hand. "I thought we've moved on from that phase."

Ivanka wiped her tears and glanced briefly. Her body relaxed slightly. There was a mysterious comforting air whenever Helio was around, although it was a completely different one that she felt around Jonathan Harvy. It wasn't the kind that felt warm and embracing, but it did feel secure. Happiness was far in sight, but she felt safe inside his dungeon.

"I'm just missing my normal life... " she trailed off, "Back when there's just me and my brand, and my dream of a fairy-tale-like happy ending."

Ivanka Anastasia had never longed for a normal life more than anything. Not in the sense of an ordinary, working middle-class kind of normal, but a life that she owned by herself—where she could be in control of her own life like people normally would. A life where she could be a happy lamb running and jumping around without having to worry when she would become dinner.

Helio stared at her for a moment, not knowing what to do. Most of the time, he got told that he was bad at comforting her—not like he cared. He didn't hate her, but he only cared enough to let her dance around in his farm, not to cradle her in his arms.

This time, he cared, though. These days, he cared more than he normally would. Hearing her cries annoyed him, not for how noisy it was but for how agonizing it was. Seeing her tears-stained cheeks made him want to do something to make it stop. He had this sudden urge to make it stop. He had this urge to lean down and kiss her cheek—he did.

Helio Nathaniel kissed her tears, inviting a surprised look from her. Ivanka looked at him with rounded eyes, completely stunned.  There was completely zero reason for Helio to kiss her cheek, she thought. They hadn't even mastered the friendly phase, let alone being affectionate to each other, despite hitting past one year of the marriage.

"You're never beating the unpredictable allegations... " she murmured, hiding her flustered face. The air was cold, almost freezing. Helio wasn't a warm person, but strangely, the warmth of his lips lingered on her cheek.

"I don't know how to comfort people, okay?" The man shrugged nonchalanty, facing away. Ivanka, who had recovered from her surprise, smiled.

"You could've patted my shoulders. That would do."

The man shrugged again, pretending to be unbothered with his action, which was unpredictable to himself as well. It was unfamiliar to him. He could flirt with any girl just fine, except Ivanka. They had known each other for a little too long for him to see her that way. This time, the feeling whenever he caught a glimpse of her face felt a little unfamiliar, too.

"Does it still feel like hell—living with me?" he asked, only stealing a glance when she wasn't looking. Usually, the answer didn't matter, but he found himself anticipating, whether it was a smile or a frown forming on her face—and he unconsciously let out a relieved breath when she smiled.

"It's not that bad lately. I've told you, you make hell feel a little bit kinder."