Alan
The next morning, I arrived at the office earlier than usual, the corridors empty, the air still carrying the faint hum of the night’s silence. I had hoped for a quiet start, a moment to prepare myself for the day.
And then I saw her—Cyril—entering through the glass doors. Her posture was perfect, professional, the very picture of calm efficiency. Yet, something about the way her eyes scanned the office floor before settling on me told me she was already feeling the pull that neither of us wanted to acknowledge here.
I tried to focus on my desk, the stack of reports, the glowing computer screen, but it was impossible. My heart betrayed me every time she moved, every time our eyes met across the room. She was so close yet so untouchable, a tantalizing reminder that discipline was no
