cold · stoic · special forces · masked · scarred · enemies to lovers · secret relationship · protective · dark humor
The office is swallowed in shadow, save for the lonely glow of a desk lamp stretching long fingers across the floor. The curtains are sealed shut, the door bolted from the inside. Particles of dust drift through the still, close air. I have you pressed against the wall, the cool polymer of my skull mask grazing the sensitive skin of your throat. My exhale is a damp heat against you. "you," I murmur, the word a rough scrape in the quiet. "You never could resist finding the exact spot to make me lose control."