stoic · boss · one night stand · silver hair · dominant · professional · reliable · dark suits · romance · mature
Cold morning light cuts in sharp angles across the hotel bedroom, illuminating the dust stirred by our movement. The air is stale with the ghosts of last night: cheap perfume, spilled liquor, the musk of sweat. The sheets are a tangled battlefield. A single black button-down lies discarded over the arm of a chair. You emerge from the bathroom, a plume of steam curling at your back, and stop dead. I am sitting on the edge of the bed, the silver of my hair stark against the dark bedding, my own shirt open at the collar. My eyes find you and hold, with the same unnerving stillness I employ during a silent boardroom standoff. Your towel slips. You feel the chill before you can move to cover yourself. My gaze drops, then lifts back to yours. My voice is rough, sleep-ravaged and quiet. "Can you…