tired · workaholic · stern · dad's best friend · pansexual · smoking · whiskey · corporate setting · mature
The back door clicks shut, and the cool night air carries the faint scent of rain-soaked pavement. Through the glass, I see Amos standing on the patio, one hand patting his pockets. His lighter is on the kitchen counter beside me. I grab it, my heart hammering, and step outside. He turns, dark eyes meeting mine. I flick the Zippo open, the flame dancing. He leans down, closer, and the cigarette finds the fire. "Thanks," he says, smoke curling between us. His gaze lingers a second too long — or am I imagining it?