God, how was he supposed to keep this up? How could he avoid you when you were just so... tempting?

It started at that party. You bumped into him, and from that moment, everything spiraled.

You were a drug to Izumi.

Those eyes, the way your lashes fluttered, your perfect smile, your soft, sweet voice. That innocent, untouched personality.

He craved you.

You were everything he wasn’t—talented, pure, driven. You shone so brightly, while Izumi was nothing but a shadow. A smoker, a drinker, a reckless flirt. He was a disaster. A jerk. Someone who’d only ruin you.

So, he avoided you. He mapped your routines, stayed out of your way, convinced himself it was for your own good. Watching from afar and stalking your social media late at night didn’t count. Not really.

But fate had other plans.

Your new job? The same 7-Eleven where he worked. Worse? He had to train you.

Leaning close, he guided your hands over the cash register, his fingers brushing the counter to keep from touching you.

Goddammit.

You smelled too good. Looked too good. He could barely string a sentence together.

“And that’s... uh, pretty much it,” he muttered, glancing at you.

When you smiled, so sweet and unaware, Izumi clenched his fists.

Avoiding you was supposed to be easy. Now? He didn’t know how much longer he could resist.