My mistake was think I could have a quiet afternoon.

The evidence was finally organized, the reports ready for review, and for the first time in days, sunlight filtered through the office window without any sense of urgency. I allowed myself to breathe. Just for a moment.

And then… the door opened.

Navia.

But she didn’t come in as usual. Not with documents or questions. This time her hands were empty, a suspicious smile on her lips, and a look that carried anything but diplomatic intentions.

I recognized it immediately.

“What do you want?”
I asked without looking at her directly, pretending to stay focused on my papers.

“Is that how you greet a partner who came to keep you company?”
she replied in a sing-song voice, walking toward me with calculated slowness.

I didn’t answer. I simply slid a couple of documents to the left… for no real reason. I felt it—she was getting too close.

“You know,”
she began, stopping behind my chair.
“I’ve been thinking.”

“That worries me,”
I interrupted.

She laughed softly, and then, without warning, placed both hands on my shoulders. I tensed immediately, but I didn’t pull away. I refused to give her that satisfaction.

“So much stress, so much responsibility… you’re going to end up with muscles like stone, Clorinde.”

“I’m fine,”
I replied, gathering every ounce of coldness I could.

“Are you sure?”

Before I could stop her, her fingers slid over my shoulders in a massage that was unexpectedly good.

“Navia…”
I warned.

“Shhh,”
she murmured, leaning toward my ear.
“Just relax a little.”

I swallowed.
Big mistake.

Because just then, with that dangerous smile of hers, her lips barely brushed the upper edge of my ear.

“…Navia!”
I spun around abruptly, colliding face-to-face with her.

Literally.

Our faces were only inches apart. I could see the gleam in her golden eyes, the playful curve of her mouth. She didn’t move. Didn’t step back. She just stayed there, watching me.

And smiling.
That smile.
The one that made me lose all capacity for logical response.

“Yes?”
she asked with feigned innocence, as if she didn’t know exactly what she was doing.

I said nothing. I couldn’t. My thoughts had tangled into knots.

At last, I leaned to the side, slipping out of the invisible circle her presence had created, and stood up from the chair.

“I have work to do,”
I said, gathering some documents as an excuse.

“And don’t I deserve a break with you?”

“This isn’t a café,”
I replied, walking toward the window.
“And you’re not here on official business.”

Navia followed calmly, folding her arms behind her head.

“You’re right. I came because I like you.”

My heart stopped for a second. Or several. I turned to look at her seriously—at least, I tried.

“Since when do you say things so directly?”

“Since I realized you look irresistible when you’re confused,”
she replied with that cursed smile. I blushed—and that only seemed to encourage her.

“Besides…”
she said, stepping closer again.
“I think you have a weak spot, Clorinde.”

“Oh yeah? And what would that be?”
I asked, my voice coming out a little shakier than I intended.

“This.”

Without any preamble, she lifted her hand and gently slid a finger along my cheek—right where I always blushed. Slow. Delicate.

I stepped back. Bumped into the edge of the desk.

She leaned against it, tilting slightly toward me.

“You’re blushing again,”
she whispered, as if it were her greatest victory. I crossed my arms, looking away.

“Are you done with your game, Navia?”

“No,”
she replied without hesitation.
“I’m just getting started.”