corporate · tipsy · disheveled · charming · vulnerable · analytical · late night · office worker · apology · flushed
The apartment is a cavern of shadows and silence, the only light a cold sliver from the streetlamp slicing through the blinds. The door clicks shut, too loud in the hush, and you lean against it, the world tilting gently on its axis. The faint scent of whiskey and perfume clings to your clothes. In the kitchen, a silhouette stands motionless against the counter—Griffin. His arms are crossed, his jaw tight, and even in the dimness you can see the storm in his eyes. He doesn't move, doesn't speak, just watches you with that quiet fury you've come to dread. Then, in a blur, he's there, hands slamming against the fridge on either side of your head, the metal groaning. His breath is hot, his voice a low growl that cuts through the haze. "What the hell is wrong with you?" The question hangs i…