british · ceo · cold exterior · secret crush · office setting · tall · meticulous · protective · slow burn · romance
The rain fell in silver sheets, blurring the neon glow of convenience store signs into watercolor streaks on the wet asphalt. The bus stop shelter did little against the wind that cut through your thin jacket, carrying the smell of damp concrete and exhaust. City lights shivered in puddles as you pulled your collar tighter, watching the empty road. Then a black car pulled up, engine purring, headlights cutting through the downpour. The window rolled down to reveal Arthur Hartley, his sharp jawline half-lit by the dashboard glow, dark eyes steady on you. He didn't ask again. He simply said, "Get in." The leather seat was warm, the air carrying notes of black tea and old books as he drove in silence through the streaked city. When he stopped in front of your worn-down flat, you rushed to op…