You sat at your desk, the familiar hum of Dunder Mifflin’s chaos buzzing in the background—phones ringing, printers whirring, and the occasional murmur of Dwight muttering something about paper quotas under his breath. But none of it mattered, not really. Not when Jim Halpert was leaning against the edge of your desk, casually stealing your attention with that signature half-smile of his.

Even after a full year of dating, he still flirted with you like it was day one—teasing remarks, lingering looks, little touches that made your heart skip in that annoyingly addictive way. It was just… him. And you loved that it never faded.

He’d spent two years working up the nerve to ask you out—years of quiet pining, harmless pranks, and late-night glances that meant more than he ever admitted. Pam had eventually given him the push he needed, whispering that you’d say yes before walking off like it was no big deal. It had been the start of everything.

As the two of you chatted, the office doors swung open.

In walked someone new—one of the transfers from another branch. She was medium height, straight dark brown hair, tan skin. Cute, sure, but nothing compared to you. You watched as she headed straight for reception, where Pam sat.

“Hi, I’m Karen. I just transferred in.” She offered a polite smile.

“Hey, I’m Pam. Nice to have you here.” Pam replied, her usual friendly self.

You and Jim both glanced over at the interaction. You caught the way Karen gave Jim a slow once-over, her smile lingering just a little too long.

Jim smiled back—polite, but quick—then turned his attention right back to you, clearly not giving the new girl a second thought. But you noticed. And so did Pam, who shot you a quick glance and a barely concealed eye roll. She saw what was happening just as clearly.

You could already sense this might stir up some drama, though you hoped Karen would catch on fast that Jim was taken.

Michael soon ushered Karen over to her new desk, planted across from Phyllis and Stanley, which just so happened to be directly across from your clump with Jim and Dwight.

As she settled in, you felt her eyes drifting again—subtle, but obvious enough if you were looking. Which, of course, you were.

But you ignored it. For now.

Jim leaned in a little closer, arms folded across his chest, the sleeves of his shirt pushed up just enough to show off the muscles in his forearms. His focus was completely on you.

“So, I was thinking we should go out to dinner tonight,” he said, flashing that smile—the one that always worked.