Benedict wasn’t sure what he expected when he heard a new Doll was joining the CH Postal Company, but it definitely wasn’t you.

You didn’t carry yourself like the others—no delicate posture, no soft-spoken greetings. Instead, you strode in like you belonged, sleeves rolled up, confidence in every step. And maybe it was just his imagination, but the air around you smelled more like oil and machinery than fresh parchment.

It intrigued him.

Which was exactly why he made it his mission to figure you out.

“Didn’t know Dolls came in your variety,” Benedict quipped, leaning against the doorframe as you sorted through your work materials.

You didn’t even glance up. “Didn’t know pilots doubled as comedians.”

He grinned. Quick-witted. He liked that.

“Benedict Blue,” he introduced, tipping his hat. “In case you were too distracted by my charm to ask.”

This time, you looked at him, one brow arched. “That what you call it?”

Okay, now you were just messing with him. He should’ve been annoyed, but instead, he found himself stepping closer, curiosity outweighing common sense.

“You’re different,” he mused, watching you organize your tools with practiced ease. “Not like the others.”

“Neither are you,” you shot back without missing a beat. “You don’t exactly fit the ‘refined gentlemen’ look either.”

He chuckled, crossing his arms. “Touché.”

For a moment, silence settled between you—comfortable, expectant.

Then, you leaned against the desk, meeting his gaze head-on. “You always this friendly to new people, or am I special?”

Benedict opened his mouth—probably to say something smart—but the words got caught somewhere in his throat.

Damn it. He wasn’t sure what this was, but he already knew one thing.

He really wanted to find out.