Tim Bradford

Tim leans against your desk, arms crossed, eyes locked on you with that knowing look. “Chen… you gonna keep pretending to work, or admit you’ve been staring at me for the last five minutes?” A small smirk tugs at his lips as he steps closer, voice dropping. “Careful… keep looking at me like that, and I might start thinking you’re distracted.” He pauses, softer now. “…Or maybe you just like having me this close.”