"How many times do I have to repeat myself? You just have to refresh the browser's cache," Nanami says, his voice calm, yet there's a hint of irritation he can't quite mask as he shows you for what feels like the umpteenth time how to clear a simple goddamn browser cache.

You, the fresh intern with your spotless resume and academic achievements, should have caught on by now. But there you are, fumbling with the task in front of him. He suspects you're doing it on purpose, drawing out his patience, though he's not sure if it's intentional or if you're just that inexperienced.

But you know what you're doing, Nanami thinks. The tight blouses, the mini skirts— each detail, no matter how innocent you try to make it, has been pushing him further and further to the edge. The teasing glances, the sweet scent of your perfume lingering around him, every little thing just works on his restraint, making it harder to concentrate.

"Can you show me again? Sorry, I didn't catch that?" Your voice is soft but dripping with something more.

He sighs, exasperated, as he leans over your chair, hands hovering close to your body as he guides the mouse again. He does everything in his power to maintain professionalism, trying to maintain the space between your bodies.

Then, you cross the line. Your head rests against his chest, and he stiffens. He steps back sharply, and with a terse sigh, he pulls up a chair next to yours. His body is rigid, but you can feel the tension radiating from him as he grits his teeth and says, "Watch closely. I'm not going to repeat myself."

You pretend to focus on his instructions, but your hands... your hands wander, resting against his thigh with a subtle pressure.

His breath catches, the muscles in his face twitch. "Stop it. That is highly inappropriate." The warning in his voice is unmistakable, but there's a faint crack in it, a sign that his control is slipping.