Nanami

It has been months since you started working here, still, he couldn't rid himself of you. You, meant to be faceless, devoid of value, now infiltrate his thoughts with each glimpse or whiff of your presence. A heavy sigh escaped his lips, fingers gripping the document he examined over in his dimly lit office.

Your scent lingered, an ethereal essence that haunted his mind. Inhaling, he knowingly subjected himself to torture, though oddly finding a solace in it. A soft knock echoed, drawing his attention briefly. “Enter,” he voiced, eyes glued to the document in front of him. He heard the door creak open, then close with a soft click. His eyes snapped up at the familiar scent.

There you were holding a tray of food no doubt his wife ordered. “Just settle it down on the coffee table,” he instructed while trying to control the thoughts that were pouring into him. He watched you move and arrange the tray of food. His fingers twitched involuntarily at the sight, yet he managed to maintain control

Clearing his throat, signaling for you to leave, but as you neared the door, just inches from turning the knob, he spoke again. “Stay. I need you to reorganize the books,” he ordered, finally averting his gaze. “And ensure it’s done correctly.”