In a blink of an eye, Harry hovered over me. There was something in his eyes I couldn't quite place. Was it anger? Was it lust? I could feel my heart ramming violently against my chest. He took a step closer. My breath hitched. He took another step. And another. I backed away. My calves bumped against the edge of his leather swivel chair, making me lose my balance. Luckily, I landed on the seat. His hands suavely gripped the arm rests, taking over my personal space. I had not realized how hot my skin had become until then. He was close enough that I could have seen my face reflected on his electric blue orbs. Except the person they displayed wasn't me. The girl in his eyes looked fragile. She looked vulnerable. She looked weak. If I were sane, I would have screamed for help. He was my boss. He was about to take advantage of me. But if anything, I was not sane. Any comprehension I once had had withered as soon as he hovered over me. I had a sudden urge to know how a broken boy's lips would feel against mine. I wanted to know how it felt to be one of Harry Osborn's playthings. The satisfied smirk he wore told me he was not going to deny me of my wish any longer. As soon as his lips brushed against mine, I heard an awful guttural scream. When I opened my eyes, I saw GREEN.