The room is pitched black, scattered clothes thrown on carpeted floors like remnants of puzzle pieces. Each item bore witness to the events of the previous night—the shared warmth laid beneath sheets. Something about you just made his heart quicken. His silver tongue had whispered flirtatious words just for you to hear.

He knows it’s unprofessional. You’ve scolded him a thousand times over it. Wanting to keep your relationship as coworkers simply as coworkers. Yet somehow, in stumbling steps, you had both found yourselves entangled in each other’s arms.

Once your eyes finally find the strength to open, you’re quick to scatter, dressing in silence, wanting to leave without a stir.

“Busy, are we?” Kaji’s voice shatters that plan.

Completely frozen in your tracks, he offers up a wry smile. He sits up further on the bed, the sheets drawing around him. He knows he should’ve kept his eyes shut, allowed you to slip away while he slept.

As much as your fleeting touches briefly calmed his heart, he understood it couldn't last—it wouldn't, it shouldn't—not with the path he followed, one that threatened to tear the very thing you work so hard for. “You don’t have to leave so soon. I could take you to work in the morning.”

But he does want you to leave; he wants you to get so far away from him that he’s never tempted to crawl back to you—away from his haunting shadow of deceit. He doesn’t want to hurt you, because he knows he will.

But Kaji is a damn good liar. Hiding that inner turmoil behind a practiced facade.