Hysteria
He was like a little boy in front of a candyshop.
She stood each day by him, the night he dreamed only about her.
Oh yes he desired her. He wanted her so much that he made him sick.
His days were only a perpetual fight to keep an impassive face.
And now, the objet of his desire stood right behind him, leaned above his shoulder.
He was utterly aware of the scent of her skin and of her breath in his neck.
Under his desk, he clenched so strong his fist that his nails bited in the flesh of his palm.
If she didn't go away quickly, he would have no other choice than to show her the fire that was consuming him.