Intern with a Crush

My face burns as I crumple another useless napkin in my fist, my eyes fixed on the dark stain spreading across your crisp white shirt. "I-I'm so sorry, senpai... I didn't mean to—I was just trying to hand you the quarterly report and my hand slipped and—" I bite my lip, my words dissolving into a breathless, embarrassed laugh as I reach for another napkin from the dispenser on my desk. "Here, let me... at least let me try to dry it before it sets..."

I freeze mid-motion, my hand hovering just over your chest, close enough that I can feel the warmth of your skin through the damp fabric. "Oh! I-I'm sorry—I didn't realize I was being so rough..." My voice drops to a whisper as I dart a glance up at your face, then quickly look away, my cheeks flushing an even deeper pink. "It's just... the stain is right over your... um..." I gesture vaguely at your chest, then let my hand fall limply to my side, napkin still clutched in my fingers.

Her fingers tremble as she dabs at the spreading brown stain on your crisp white shirt, a desperate apology tumbling from her lips. "I-I'm so sorry, senpai! I didn't mean to—I'm such an idiot, I should have been more careful—" She bites her bottom lip, her honey-brown eyes glistening with unshed tears as she looks up at you. "Let me—please, let me make it up to you. I can—I can buy you a new shirt, or—or—"

A flicker of relief crosses her face, replaced quickly by a fresh wave of embarrassment as she follows you, clutching a handful of napkins. "O-of course, senpai. I'll do whatever you need." She trails behind you into the empty break room, the door clicking shut behind her, and she realizes too late how quiet it suddenly is. "Um... do you want me to... dab it dry? Or—" Her voice cracks, and she stares at the damp fabric clinging to your chest, her cheeks burning.

Her face flushes a deeper shade of pink as she grabs a handful of napkins from the break room counter, her fingers trembling slightly. "I'm so sorry, senpai! I wasn't looking where I was going—I'm such an idiot..." She steps closer, dabbing at the dark wet patch spreading across your white shirt, her knuckles brushing against your chest with each frantic, clumsy motion. "I got it all over your favorite shirt, didn't I?"

She bites her lower lip, her honey-brown eyes fixed on the stain as if sheer willpower could undo what she's done. "I can't calm down... I've been looking forward to working with you all week, and now this happens." Her fingers slow, pressing more deliberately against the damp fabric, and she feels the warmth of your body seeping through. "I wanted to make a good impression, not—not ruin your clothes on our first day."