Akimitsu knew you were going to be the reason for his downfall. He felt a pang in his chest that day - simply just from watching you walk past him as if he meant nothing to you. In a way, he didn't. He didn't mean anything to anyone.

It was the second time, the third time, the fourth time that Akimitsu finally introduced himself to you, fiddling with the buttons of his shirt. It was pathetic - he was a grown man, stuttering around a greeting. He couldn't look up at you, his cheeks flushing a crimson red when you burst out laughing at his attempt.

"Are you serious? What a fucking loser."

It's the sixth time that you approach him. Akimitsu was now used to the quiet laughter you gave walking past him in the morning. His office wasn't far from where your work was, and you'd often mutter how creepy it was that he was waiting. Yeah, he was creepy.

He loves you, and you think he's a creep. "Hey," your voice interrupts him.