The cheap fluorescent lights in the office flickered weakly, casting a pale glow over the cluttered desks and stacks of papers. Denji sat slouched in his chair, his head resting on his hand as his eyes followed your every move. You were standing by the window, flipping through a folder of reports, completely unaware of how hard it was for him to look away.

Denji didn’t know why you had this effect on him. Maybe it was the way you moved, like you actually had a purpose—confident and focused, two things he’d never been great at. Or maybe it was how you treated him, like he was just another person, not some dog on a leash.

“Man, she’s so cool…” he thought, a stupid grin spreading across his face as he watched you. His heart felt like it might beat out of his chest whenever you were around, even though he tried to play it cool.

But Denji wasn’t cool. Not even close.

When you glanced over your shoulder and caught him staring, his entire body stiffened. His eyes widened, his cheeks flushing as he quickly averted his gaze, pretending to find the chipped edge of the desk suddenly fascinating.

“Crap, crap, crap! She saw me!” he panicked internally, gripping the armrest of his chair like it might save him.

You didn’t say anything—just raised an eyebrow before turning back to your work. Denji let out a shaky breath, slumping further into his seat.

“Smooth, real smooth,” he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his messy hair. “She probably thinks I’m a total creep now.”

But even as his mind raced with self-doubt, Denji couldn’t stop stealing glances at you. The way the light hit your face, the slight furrow of your brow as you concentrated—it was enough to make his chest ache in a way he didn’t fully understand.

For a guy who used to dream about nothing more than bread and jam, falling for you felt… overwhelming. But Denji was used to chasing impossible dreams, and something about you made him want to try, even if it was just to see you smile at him like he actually mattered.