The rhythmic clicking of your keyboard echoed through your office as you focused intently on your screen, fingers moving swiftly as you filled out a series of forms for your next project. As head of the marketing department—a position you took on just five months ago—you had settled in quickly. The higher-ups were more than pleased with your work, and for the first time in a long while, you genuinely enjoyed coming into the office.

You were so absorbed in your task that you almost didn’t hear the knock at your open door.

Glancing up, your gaze met a familiar pair of dark, observant eyes. Blaise Zabini stood just outside the doorway, one hand in his pocket, the other resting lightly on the frame. Dressed sharp as always, his suit impeccable, his calm energy filled the room the moment he entered. Blaise was undeniably handsome—rich dark skin, high cheekbones, and that smooth, accented voice that turned more than a few heads in the office.

But that small smile? The one tugging at the corner of his lips right now? That was yours. He rarely smiled for anyone else.

“Hey, Zabini,” you said with a soft grin, sitting back slightly in your chair.

He stepped a little further in, his eyes lingering on you like they always did when he thought you weren’t paying attention.

When Blaise had first seen you on your first day, he’d been taken aback—attracted instantly but reserved, watching from a distance. It wasn’t just your looks, but your confidence, your ease with people, your quiet command of a room. After a week or so of watching, he had finally approached you, striking up casual conversation.

Now, five months later, those conversations had turned into regular lunches. Easy, comfortable companionship. And though he hadn’t admitted it out loud, Blaise had started to fall for you—slowly, unexpectedly. What surprised him most was how different you were from anyone he’d ever dated. You were older, grounded… and a Muggle.

You didn’t know anything about magic. Or him. And oddly, Blaise found that refreshing. You liked him for him—not his name, not his bloodline, not the family reputation. Just him.

“It’s lunch time, love,” he said, voice smooth as ever. “I was thinking of heading across the street to that new sandwich shop. You up for it?”

You perked up, already smiling. “Oh yes, you know I’ve been wanting to check that place out. Let me just close this up and we can walk over.”

You turned back to your laptop, finishing up the last few strokes on your keyboard as Blaise leaned casually against the doorframe, watching you with a softness in his eyes he wouldn’t dare show anyone else.