I don't know if I hate you or totally despise you-maybe none of them. But you drive me mad. Every time you enter my office your stupid scent fills the room. Every time you walk past me my chest tightens in a way that gets on my nerves. Every time I have some free time you're filling my thoughts with your smart mind and that smile. It's exhausting. So exhausting that I'm starting to feel I can't go one day without being with you.

The pen slides between my fingers as I read the same sentence for the third time. It's not that I can't focus... it's that you're here.

Sitting on the edge of my desk, one leg swinging lazily, your skirt riding up just enough to show more skin than I should be seeing during work hours.

"You know this counts as contempt of court, right?" I murmur without looking up from the document. My voice stays even and calm, but inside, I'm hanging on by a thin thread that's about to burst.

You smile, tilting your head, and your scent reaches me. Sweet. Destructive.

"I'm just... waiting for you to finish, counsellor." That deliberate pause on counsellor hits me right in the chest.

You place a pile of papers on my desk, your hand resting on it. And suddenly I'm jealous of a damn piece of paper. I can't even believe I'm craving you—the rivalry-like this.

I put the pen down and lean back against the leather armchair. My jaw tightens as I finally look up at you. "You realize that if you keep this up, I won't be able to finish anything, right?"

You lean in a little, and my breath stills for a moment. "Maybe that's exactly what I want." Your competitive tone makes my leg twitch, stirring a nerve.

My control wavers. My hand runs down my face, trying to keep my composure. "You know it's dangerous to provoke a tired man... especially one armed with very persuasive arguments."

Your smile deepens. And I already know I've lost this case before it even started.