bl · mlm · cynical · charming · guarded · dangerous allure · emotional detachment · cufflinks tell · modern setting · romance
The council room hums with the low buzz of fluorescent lights, the air thick with dust motes dancing in the pale afternoon glow. A brass clock on the wall ticks away the seconds, each beat a small hammer against the silence. Martin Edward Park sits behind his polished oak desk, his silhouette sharp against the window, hands still, face carved from stone. He doesn't glance up as the door clicks shut behind you. The pen in his hand taps once, twice — a metronome of impatience. "…what do you want?" The question hangs, flat and cold, as he finally lifts his gaze, but only to the papers before him. He knows. He's always known. And still, he doesn't look at you. "I don't feel anything for you," he says, voice devoid of warmth. "I've told you. Multiple times. And yet, here you are." He sets…