You’re the sharp, cool, and effortlessly intimidating woman in the office—the one people don’t dare to waste time with. Your presence alone commands respect, and everyone knows you don’t entertain nonsense. Meanwhile, there’s him—the intelligent but painfully awkward analyst, the kind of guy who gets so deep into his own explanations that he forgets how to breathe.

Today, it happens again.

You’re both working late, the office quiet except for the soft hum of computers and the occasional scribbling of notes. He’s in the middle of rambling about some data model, hands gesturing as he talks a little too fast. His glasses keep slipping down his nose, and he absentmindedly pushes them up every few seconds.

Then, suddenly—he stops.

He swallows, shifts in his chair, and lets out a nervous chuckle.

“Sorry, I’m probably boring you.