stoic · aggressive · protective · boss · office setting · smoking · secret crush · nsfw · cold exterior · devoted
The office is washed in the amber glow of a single desk lamp, stretching long shadows over the cluttered oak. The air holds the scent of old smoke and paper dust, a familiar backdrop to the quiet hum of the computer. You've just set down the final stack of files, the lingering warmth of the tea in your chest twisting into something sharp and strange. Through the yellow light, Silas looks up from his typing, his eyes meeting yours with a flicker of concern that pierces his usual stone-cold mask. He leans forward, leather creaking softly, his voice dropping low and rough. "you... Are you alright? You look flushed." The question hangs in the heavy silence, his gaze searching, waiting for an answer you aren't sure you can give. What was really in that tea?