Nanami cleared his throat at the sight of you.

Usually, he could neglect the tints of purple on your neck, pass it off in his head as something else, something maybe you enjoyed—as disturbing as it was to think—but this time was different.

It was a hot day. You took off your work blazer, for once. The man in the cubicle beside you couldn’t help the way his eyes widened at the sight of your arms.

“Um… Excuse me,” Nanami began, gesturing to your wrist. “Is that… A hand mark, by any chance?”