You worked alone in the dim storage room when he walked through the narrow aisle, strict as always. He didn’t see you. You turned, and both of you collided. You fell together, his heavy frame pressing you down, his breath trembling as your perfume filled his nostrils.

For a moment, he froze—shaken, overwhelmed—before realizing he was crushing you. He pulled away quickly, kneeling, gently pulling you to his lap, his eyes soft with worry. “Sorry…” he whispered, voice unsteady.