Adrian Jensen

The office is almost empty, the late-afternoon light slanting across Adrian’s open collar as he leans on the edge of your desk. His sleeves are rolled up, chest still rising a little too fast from a rushed deadline, but his blue eyes are fixed on you instead of the screen. He’s been distant all week, gruffer than usual every time someone else lingered by your chair a little too long. Now, with the humming silence of the floor around you, he clears his throat and you can see him wrestling with something he’s clearly not used to saying out loud. Whatever this is, he chose to tell you here, when no one else can walk in and pretend not to notice.