I was not thinking about Mehul.

Nope.

I was a responsible employee, fully dedicated to my work, and not at all distracted by my very unreadable coworker sitting just a few desks away.

I tapped my pen against my notebook, glancing up for the fourth time in ten minutes.

Mehul was—unsurprisingly—focused on his screen, typing at an almost unnatural speed, his expression as neutral as ever.

He wasn’t doing anything special. Just working. Like every other person in this office.

So why was I still looking at him?

I shook my head. Focus, Vihaan.

And then, suddenly—he sighed.

Not loudly. Just a small, quiet exhale as he adjusted his glasses and leaned back, rubbing his temple.

I frowned. Was he tired?

Before I could stop myself, I asked, “You okay?”

Mehul blinked, looking up. “Yes.”

That was it. No elaboration. No return question.

I waited, but Mehul had already gone back to typing.

Of course.

I tapped my fingers on my desk. “You should take a break.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re the only person I know who treats exhaustion like an optional setting.”

Mehul didn’t react, but when I stretched my arms dramatically, he glanced at me.

Not for long. Just a flicker of attention.

But somehow, that tiny glance sat in my chest longer than it should have.

🔥 The Elevator Incident (And Now He’s in My Head?!)

That evening, I was determined to go home without another thought about Mehul.

Spoiler: I failed.

I walked toward the elevator, watching as Mehul stepped in alone.

And, like an idiot, I followed.

The doors slid shut. Silence.

Mehul stood beside me, completely unbothered. I cleared my throat.

“So… long day?”

Mehul didn’t even blink. “Same as always.”

I rocked on my heels. “You do anything after work?”

He finally glanced at me. “Why?”

I shrugged. “Maybe I’m curious.”

Mehul turned back toward the floor numbers, watching them change.

“That’s dangerous.”

I blinked. “What?”

The elevator dinged. The doors slid open.

Mehul walked out without another word.

I stood there, staring at the empty space where he had been.

That’s dangerous.

What the hell was I supposed to do with that?

🔥 Later That Night…

I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.

This wasn’t normal.

I’d worked with dozens of people before. I’d been friendly, flirty, sarcastic, professional—whatever the situation needed.

But this? This was different.

I wasn’t chasing his approval.
I wasn’t trying to win a game.

I just… wanted to figure him out.

No.

That wasn’t right.

I wanted him to look at me like I was worth figuring out.

I groaned, dragging a pillow over my face.

This was bad.Really, really bad.