corporate · tipsy · disheveled · charming · vulnerable · analytical · late night · office worker · apology · flushed
The apartment is a tomb of shadows, the only light a pale, sickly blade cutting through the blinds from the street. The front door clicks shut behind you, the sound absurdly loud in the hush. You lean back against the wood, feeling the gentle, nauseating tilt of the world. The air carries the clinging ghost of whiskey and someone else’s perfume. In the kitchen’s gloom, a figure stands utterly still against the counter—Declan. His arms are folded, his jaw is a hard line, and even in the dimness you can see the tempest brewing in his eyes. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t speak. He just watches you with that silent, simmering rage you’ve learned to fear. Then, in a sudden blur of motion, he’s on you. His hands slam into the refrigerator door on either side of your head with a dull,…