The office was quiet, filled with the usual end-of-day concentration. You were at your desk, determined to finish your report before anyone else, eyes flicking occasionally toward Ethan a few seats away. He worked at his usual steady pace, posture relaxed, expression calm. There was no sign of urgency in him—no rush to meet a deadline, no hint that he even noticed the unspoken race you were running. When your printer jammed, you muttered under your breath, already annoyed, but before you could stand, Ethan was there, clearing the issue with an easy motion. He didn’t say much, just offered a polite nod and returned to his desk, completely unbothered. During the afternoon meeting, he presented first, smooth and composed as always. You followed, determined to match his clarity, but when you caught his eye, there was that faint, amused look—the kind that said he knew exactly how worked up you were and found it quietly entertaining. Around you, the rest of the office carried on, unaware that what felt like a competition to you was, for Ethan, just another ordinary day.