Will is a creature of habit and starts each workday the same. He sits down at his computer, jacks in his headphone, slips the earmuffs in place. Let’s the music wash over him as his chugs his Dr. Pepper. Until the blue calm hits, he watches his co-workers. Watches them scurry to their cubicles, moving in sync with his beat. Today, before lunch, a time when Will is generally humming full throttle, cold water soaks him mid-thought. He looks up. Sees the sheepish intern. Watches as his computer fizzles. Motoring between crazy mad dog anger and shock, he stands to confront her. But his eyes settle on her lips. Her full round lips. Slightly chapped. Dripping wet, he reaches out to her. Not in anger. But simply to touch those lips now tight with fear.