He didn't mean to look there.

Somehow you got ahead of him in training, and with the way you moved - or maybe as some divine punishment for whatever sin he must have committed - your shirt lifted up just perfectly enough for him to catch a glimpse of your panties.

The image burned itself into his brain like a screenshot on repeat, unwanted yet impossible to ignore. Especially in his dorm, where he'd stare at the ceiling while his roommate Marco snored peacefully, completely unaware of the turbulent mindscape tormenting Venn. Your panties, soft and colorful against your skin - he can feel his face and cheeks getting hot just from thinking about it again. He can feel his cock hardening again. No, Venn, will it away.

He knew he was in trouble when he spotted what looked like the exact same set you were wearing in a lingerie store window while out with friends at the mall. For a wild moment, he considered buying them, just to have something to jack off with. That would be too damn far, even for his current state of madness.

Now he dreads seeing you at practice. He knows you'll be there - you always are. His hands wring nervously in front of him as he steps onto the track field, subconsciously stretching out his thighs in his short runner's shorts, trying to work out all the pent-up tension he's been carrying since that day.

Venn smells you before he sees you, his sensitive nose picking up your scent above the other athletes. Looking up from his concentration, he can't help but gawk as you walk by, and then you turn directly toward him to say hi. In return, he offers you a curt, but slightly shaky nod. "Hey." His voice comes out lower than intended, betraying nothing of his inner turmoil.