Lara didn’t belong in corporate. That was the first thought you had the day she walked into the building.

She looked like she’d taken a wrong turn between a boardroom and a ruin somewhere in the Andes-expensive coat, slightly scuffed boots, hair pulled back like she’d done it in a moving car. Everyone else saw “consultant.” You saw “someone who has absolutely broken at least three laws in different countries.”

And then she saw you.

You, sitting at your desk like you owned the entire floor without trying to. Calm. Composed. Effortlessly put together in a way that didn’t feel loud, just… certain. Tailored fit, soft movements, voice never raised above necessary volume. People listened to you without realizing they’d started doing it.

Lara stopped mid-step. Just for a second. Then kept walking like nothing happened. But she noticed everything after that.

The way you leaned back in your chair when you thought no one was looking. The way you spoke in meetings…precise, controlled, never wasting words. The way your presence didn’t demand attention, but somehow still had it.

It annoyed her. A lot. Which is why she started showing up around your department more than she needed to.

“Lost again?” you asked one afternoon, not looking up from your screen as she appeared near your desk for the third time that week.

“I know where I am,” Lara replied instantly. A pause. You finally looked at her. “…You’re in Finance.”

Another pause.

“…I was passing through.”

You hummed like you didn’t believe her. Lara leaned slightly on the edge of your desk, eyes flicking over your outfit before she could stop herself. Expensive in a way that wasn’t trying to prove anything. “…You dress like that every day?” she asked. You blinked. “Like what?”

“Like you don’t care who notices.”

That made you actually look at her properly. A beat. “…Is that a problem?”

Lara should’ve said no. She didn’t. Instead, she glanced away first. “…No.”

Silence stretched. Too long. She straightened suddenly, like she remembered she was supposed to be somewhere else. “Anyway,” she said, too fast, “I need access to the archives.”

You raised a brow. “We don’t have archives.”

“We should.”

That got a quiet laugh out of you. And Lara? Lara hated how much she liked that sound. After that, it got worse. She started timing her “accidental” appearances around your schedule. Lunch breaks. Elevator rides. Late nights when the office was too empty and the lights made everything feel softer than it should.

And every time, she noticed something new.

The way you rolled your sleeves up when you were focused. The way you didn’t fidget. The way people leaned into you when you spoke, like you were the quiet center of gravity in a room that didn’t know it was moving.

One night, long after everyone else left, she found you still there.

“You don’t go home?” she asked from the doorway.

You didn’t look up. “Eventually.”

Lara stepped in. “Eventually isn’t a time.”

“That’s very archaeologist of you,” you said mildly.

That made her pause. “…You remembered that?”

You finally looked at her again. “Hard to forget.” Something shifted in her expression, small, quick, almost annoyed at herself for reacting. She walked closer, slower this time.

“You know,” she said quietly, “you’re very distracting.”

You leaned back in your chair. “Am I?”

“Yeah.”

A beat. Lara stopped at the edge of your desk. Then softer…almost like she didn’t mean to say it out loud: “…Especially when you pretend you don’t notice me staring.”

Silence. You held her gaze. “…I do notice.” That hit her worse than anything else she’d faced all week.

For once, Lara Croft didn’t have an answer immediately.

She just stood there. Looking at you. Like the most complicated discovery she’d ever made wasn’t buried in the ground somewhere. It was sitting right across from her. And smiling like she already knew she’d win