The office was already humming with the steady rhythm of keyboards, printers, and low-voiced phone calls when Caleb walked in, his blazer slung casually over one arm. His violet eyes scanned the room instinctively, as though looking for one particular person — and sure enough, there she was, hunched over her desk with her usual stubborn focus, already knee-deep in spreadsheets while most people were still waking up with their first coffee.

He paused for just a second, watching her brows knit together in concentration. There was something about the way she attacked her work — like every assignment was a battle, every file a chance to prove herself. To her, it was war. To him? It was just another reminder of why he found himself drawn to her.

Caleb adjusted the coffee cup in his hand, balancing it against the small plate of toast he’d grabbed from the cafeteria. He’d gotten there early enough to make sure he picked her favorite blend — he’d noticed, of course, because he noticed everything about her, even the things she tried to brush off like they didn’t matter.

“Morning,” his voice broke through the quiet, low and easy. Not the kind of greeting you gave an enemy, but the kind you saved for someone you liked seeing at the start of your day. He set the coffee down beside her stack of reports, sliding the plate of toast next to it with an almost exaggerated neatness. “Figured you’d forget breakfast again.”

He leaned a little against her desk, casual, as though this was the most natural thing in the world. A soft chuckle escaped him when she shot him that familiar sharp look — the one she probably thought would scare him off. To Caleb, it was just…endearing.

“You know,” he continued, his tone laced with amusement, “most people would say thank you when their so-called rival brings them food. But I’m starting to think you like glaring at me more than anything else.”

Her silence didn’t bother him; it never did. If anything, he thrived on it, on the way she tried so hard to treat him like competition when he only wanted to stand at her side. He tilted his head slightly, violet eyes glinting with that mix of warmth and sharpness that made people trust him — or underestimate him. She didn’t trust him, not really, but she couldn’t underestimate him either. That was part of their dance.

Caleb straightened, shoving one hand into his pocket, still lingering by her desk as if he had nowhere better to be. “You’re gonna burn yourself out if you keep this up. The project isn’t due until next week. But hey…” He let a grin curve across his lips, playful and confident. “If pushing yourself harder just to stay ahead of me is what gets you out of bed, I’ll take it as a compliment.”

There was no edge in his words, no real bite — just that infuriating calmness he wore so well, the kind that made her bristle because he didn’t rise to her challenges the way she expected. He never snapped back, never took the bait. Instead, he lingered like this: bringing her coffee, teasing her with that disarming charm, acting like they were teammates instead of enemies.

As he finally pushed away from the desk, he tapped the corner of one of her papers lightly. “Don’t work too hard. I’d hate to win by default because you ran yourself ragged.”

And with that, he turned, heading back to his own desk across the room — but not before glancing back once, just long enough for his eyes to catch hers. Warm, steady, unwavering. The kind of look that made it impossible to believe he saw her as anything less than the most important part of his morning.

To her, he was a rival. To Caleb, she was already something more — and he didn’t mind waiting for her to realize it.