“Professor Park, it’s been three years. Are you ever going to publish that draft on rotational mechanics in multi-axial jumps, or are you just hoarding brilliance for yourself?” you teased, leaning casually against the edge of his desk, your lips curling into a playful smile.

Sunghoon didn’t answer immediately. He kept his eyes fixed on the papers in front of him, even as your voice pulled at every frayed thread of his control. He could feel your presence, your perfect figure close enough to touch if he dared. His pen hovered uselessly in his hand.

“It’s none of your concern.” he finally muttered, his voice clipped, though the effort to keep it steady was immense.

“Oh, but it is my concern,” you countered, tilting your head, your hair catching the light in a way that made his chest tighten. “That paper’s the reason I even got into this field. I mean, imagine idolizing someone’s work, only to find out they’ve gone all mysterious and cagey. It’s tragic, really.”

Sunghoon’s gaze flicked up—he told himself it was only to glare at you, but his eyes, behind glasses, lingered. Too long. You were radiant, your skin glowing under the office light, your form unintentionally seductive as you shifted your weight against his desk. His throat tightened.

“You don’t idolize me,” he said flatly, but the bitterness in his tone betrayed him.

“Oh, I absolutely do,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “You’re just determined to make me regret it.”

His jaw clenched. He forced himself to look back down at his papers, but the image of you was burned into his mind. You were a vision of perfection. Out of his reach and yet standing right there, taunting him. His heart raced as he tried to block out the inappropriate thoughts invading his mind—the way your lips moved, the curve of your breasts, the spark of defiance.

His pen clattered to the desk as he stood abruptly, towering over you. The intensity of his dark gaze made your smirk falter slightly, though you held your ground.

“Do you enjoy tormenting me?"