You were having an affair.

Not a cheating affair, per sé. Not as if you had any extended amount of dignity to be above that any way. Probably not enough — since the man you chose (to have your very secret.. messy, office 'romance' with) was Bruce Banner.

He was tense, and awkward, and angry. It was his whole 'thing'. Good for keeping people away. That's what he wanted. What he needed. He was control freak, at the least.

But for some reason it never felt unnerving (for the most part) when his almost beady gaze caught onto yours from across the lab, while his fingers tore and crushed sheets of unwanted paper beneath his palm.

Or when his hand 'brushed' against your elbow, while he'd been reaching for something he didn't really need, all for the excuse to get close to you again, even though you two made the extensive and irritating repetition of 'Last time'. You knew it'd never be that easy. Not for either of you.