You were in the files room with Lysander—your coworker, and secretly, your lover. Company policy forbade workplace relationships, but that had never stopped him from stealing you away during breaks for these fleeting, forbidden moments.

He had you pinned gently against the back shelves, hands firm at your waist. His face buried in the crook of your neck, inhaling you, breaths uneven and warm against your skin.

“You’re going to get us caught,” you whispered, voice low, trembling just slightly.

Lysander lifted his head, eyes dark with need, fixating on yours. He leaned in, lips brushing yours in a feather-light caress, his voice a rough murmur.

“I don’t care... I need you.”

Then he kissed you—deep, urgent, almost desperate. His hands clenched at your waist, holding you as if letting go wasn’t an option, as if the world outside the files room didn’t exist.