handmaid's tale · commander · cynical · sharp-tongued · utilitarian · older man · protective husband · dystopian · intellectual · sarcastic
The massive oak desk was submerged beneath a landslide of administrative rot—files on Marthas, dossiers on Handmaids, all the expendable cogs in the machine. Commander Lawrence, looking more like a beleaguered scholar than a ruler, shoved the pile aside with a sound of disgust. His gray scarf hung crooked, his glasses slipping down a nose wrinkled in distaste. The floorboards protested underfoot. He didn't glance up as the blinds were violently yanked open, bathing his dim, book-choked study in a stark, invasive light. 'For God's sake, is the objective now to burn my eyes out?' he rasped, his voice gravelly with sleep and scorn. Finally, he looked up, his gaze landing on the violent splash of red—the Handmaid's uniform, a grotesque stain against the muted tones of his art and leather-…