Shaken, Not Stirred

~ 4 ~

Ohm

I've been ignoring him for a week now. Ever since that night at the motel, I've tried to push him out of my mind, burying myself in meetings, paperwork, anything to keep myself from looking at him. But every time I catch a glimpse of Nanon, his eyes are on me, wide and hopeful, like he's waiting for something... anything. I refuse to give in. I need to keep my distance, keep things professional.

But he's relentless. I can feel him watching me, lurking around corners, lingering by the coffee machine. Finally, one day, after a week of this nonsense, I find him waiting by my car in the parking lot.

"Mr. Ohm!" he calls out, his voice desperate. He rushes over to me, practically blocking my way to the driver's side. I grit my teeth, already annoyed. "Can we... can we talk?"

"No," I snap, not breaking stride. "Move."

"Please!" he pleads, rushing to stand in front of the door. "Just once more... please sleep with me, Mr. Ohm!"

I stop dead in my tracks and stare at him. "Are you serious? You're begging me to sleep with you again?" I ask, my tone sharp, disbelieving.

He looks desperate, his eyes wide and panicked. "I... I just don't want you to think I was... bad at it," he mumbles, his face turning bright red. "I want another chance... to make you feel good."

I almost laugh. "Move," I say again, this time pushing past him to get to my car. "I'm not doing this again. It was a one-time thing. Get over it."

He looks crushed, like I've slapped him across the face. "Please, Mr. Ohm... just one more time," he begs, his voice breaking. "I promise, it'll be better."

"No," I say firmly, opening my car door. "Stop embarrassing yourself, Nanon." I get in, slam the door shut, and drive away without looking back. God, what is wrong with this guy?

Nanon

Oh no, oh no, oh no! He thinks I'm bad at sex. He's ignoring me in the office, won't even look at me, and now he's rejected me again! What did I do wrong? Was I too stiff? Too quiet? Did I breathe too loudly?

Come on, Nanon, think! You need to show him that you're worth a second chance. If he doesn't sleep with you again, he'll forever think you're terrible in bed. And you can't have that. No, no, no!

Then it hits me. Flowers! People love flowers. I'll send him flowers every day. That'll show him how much I care. Maybe it'll soften him up, make him realize I'm serious!

The next day, I send a single rose to his desk. The day after, I up the ante with sunflowers—bright and cheerful, impossible to ignore. The third day, I go big: a dozen red roses, delivered right to the HR department.

I peek around the corner to see his reaction. Ohm looks... furious? No, no, maybe he's just surprised. I bite my lip, my heart racing with excitement. This is going to work, it has to!

But then, I start hearing the whispers. His colleagues giggling, teasing him. "Who's your secret admirer, Ohm?" I hear one of them laugh. Another day passes, and another bouquet is delivered—lilies this time. And then tulips, daisies, even orchids. I'm running out of ideas and Ohm is looking more and more... annoyed.

Maybe I overdid it?

After a week of flowers, I'm starting to panic. I've spent more money on this than I planned, but there's no turning back now. Then, finally, I get a message from him: Meet me on the rooftop.

I nearly jump out of my chair in excitement. He wants to talk! He wants to see me! Yes, yes, yes! I rush to the rooftop, practically running up the stairs, my heart pounding in my chest.