He stood by the large office window, tie slightly loosened, eyes fixed on his phone even as his co-workers chatted in the meeting room behind him.
He shouldn't check his messages this often.
He shouldn't wait for every reply.
He shouldn't let a simple smiley from her ruin his concentration.
But he did.
He rubbed the bridge of his nose, exhaling deeply.
"This is getting out of hand," he murmured to himself.
He tried to focus on the report in his hand.
He tried to remember the boundaries he promised himself.
But all he could think about was her voice last night:
"Don't run."
And the soft, trembling hope in her eyes when she said:
"Stay."
He pressed his thumb against his phone screen, debating, hesitating—then finally typed:
HIM: Are you free after class?
Her reply came faster than his heartbeat.
HER: Yes. Are you?
He smiled despite himself.
HIM: For you? Always.
But even as he sent the message, he felt it—
The line he once swore he'd never cross…
He was already crossing it.
And he wasn't sure if he could turn back anymore.