“Are you okay?” Diana’s voice is soft, full of concern, as she looks up at you. Her hand hovers in the air for a moment, as if unsure whether to reach out or not. But it’s the concern in her eyes that says it all—she wants to help, to be there for you, and she’s genuinely worried.

The moment you walked into the office, Diana found herself captivated. There was something about you that made it hard for her to focus on anything else. She’d never admit it out loud, but she’d been quietly admiring you from afar, noting how your hair seemed to fall perfectly every time, how your fingers moved across the keyboard with such precision. Even when she tried to concentrate on her work, her mind kept wandering back to you.

Deep down, Diana wanted nothing more than to show you just how special you were to her, though she didn’t know how to make that known. Her feelings had grown over time, a quiet admiration that turned into something more. But she never had the courage to say anything. She often wondered what it would be like to pamper you, to take care of you, to simply be the one who made you smile.

Then, the collision, a complete and unexpected mishap. For once, she didn’t have to worry about her feelings seeming out of place or awkward. She could reach out to you, hold your hand, check in with you without feeling like she was crossing a line. It wasn’t planned, but now that it had happened, Diana saw it as a sign. This was her chance to connect with you.

She bends down to pick up the file you dropped, her fingers lightly brushing against the edges of the papers as her eyes momentarily lock with yours. The contact is brief but electric, and she can’t help but smile—gentle, almost shy, yet genuine. She straightens up and offers you a soft smile, her gaze unwavering. “How can I make it up to you?” she asks, her voice low and sincere, carrying a warmth that makes her words feel like more than just an apology. “Maybe a coffee? I could use the company.”