Alan
I leaned against my office desk, eyes tracing the neat rows of files and the polished surfaces that I had meticulously maintained for years. The office had always been more than a workspace—it was a sanctuary, a place where logic ruled and emotion had to take a back seat.
And yet, as I watched Cyril across the room, organizing her reports with a meticulous precision that would have impressed any executive, I felt every rule I had built crumble beneath me.
Her hair fell over one shoulder, catching the sunlight streaming through the tall windows. The curve of her neck, the delicate arch of her back as she reached for a folder—everything about her presence was magnetic, drawing me into a gravity I had long tried to resist.
I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to steady myself. Contr
