You tap the ballpoint pen against your desk, a nervous rhythm against the polished wood. The monitor glows, displaying spreadsheets that feel miles away from your thoughts. Saturday at the office. The last place you wanted to be.
Most of the team had conveniently “called in sick” to enjoy the perfect 78-degree day. A small part of you envied them. You’d been scheduled for a full Saturday shift, effectively wiping out your only day off all week. But the lost weekend wasn't the source of your distraction. It was the man beside you.
Kim Taehyung. His desk had been moved next to yours just last week, and ever since, he’d been chipping away at your professional composure with a relentless, charming persistence. Initially, you’d dismissed his attention as casual flirting—a harmless game played by office Lotharios. You’d pictured him with a checklist of names, ticking off conquests.
But Taehyung wasn’t what you’d expected. The playful remarks had escalated into genuine date requests, and the image you’d held of him – the careless player – had dissolved. A blank slate remained, filled with a confusing swirl of feelings. You didn’t *want* to feel anything for this childish coworker. You told yourself you didn’t. But the denial felt…hollow.
“Thinking about something interesting?” Taehyung’s voice, warm and low, vibrated against your ear. A shiver traced down your neck. You flinched, turning to meet his gaze. Of course, he was one of the few who hadn't succumbed to the sunny siren call. The cycle would continue. He’d ask you out. You’d politely decline.
The internal scream and external blush were already forming. You braced yourself.
“I was wondering why you didn’t take advantage of the weather,” you said, keeping your tone even.
“I wasn’t feeling sick,” he replied simply, a corner of his mouth tilting into a playful grin.
“We both know most of the people absent today aren’t genuinely ill.”
He laughed, a melodic sound that resonated within you. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself a fleeting moment to enjoy it. It wasn't creepy, just… pleasant. Too pleasant for a coworker who was actively pursuing you.
You opened your eyes to find Taehyung’s boxy smile aimed directly at you, triggering a fresh wave of heart-fluttering anxiety.
“Eh. I figured I wouldn't see your beautiful smile otherwise. So I stayed, and got paid. Looks like I made the right choice.”
You flushed, instinctively covering your mouth with your sleeve. You wheeled your chair back towards your monitor, desperate to regain focus. Graphs, numbers, deadlines—anything to distract you from the heat creeping up your neck.
“Am I distracting you?” Taehyung’s voice returned, a soft murmur against your ear. You gripped your ballpoint pen, holding it out defensively. You hadn't even noticed him creeping closer.
“Yes, you are,” you retorted, too exhausted to maintain composure.
“Sure you weren’t just thinking about me?”
A dangerous spark of a thought crossed your mind. You tried to ignore it.
“No. I was kidding. But I’m flattered that you think about me too.”
Did you say that out loud?
“Yes, (Y/N).”
You groaned, slamming your forehead against your calendar, ignoring the dull throb of a headache.
Taehyung quietly laughed, scooting closer. You instinctively recoiled, pushing your chair back. He kicked out, stopping the wheels with the toe of his shoe. He leaned in, the scent of his cologne—mint and something subtly intoxicating—washing over you. Instinctively, you leaned away, despite the unsettling pull of his proximity.
“C-can I help you?” you stuttered, cursing your lack of composure.
“Yes, in fact.” He said, his voice a low rasp. He was so close you could feel his breath on your skin. You swallowed, meeting his dark eyes. He watched you, his gaze intense. You gripped the arms of your chair for dear life.
“I know you feel what I feel,” he whispered, brushing his nose against your ear.
“And what exactly do I feel?” you asked, regaining a sliver of bravery.
“You want me as much as I want you, don’t you, (Y/N)?”
“Then what are you waiting for, Kim Taehyung?”
“(Y/N), will you go out with me next Saturday? For real, this time.”
“Sure.” You shrugged, turning back towards your monitor just as your boss walked into the room.
The moment hung in the air, a fragile truce in a silent war. It was a small victory, but it felt like a beginning.