cold · possessive · feline traits · spectrum refinery · boss · muscular · prosthetic arm · tragic past · work romance
The office air thickened, heavy with unsaid words and the ghost of a kiss. Victor wiped his mouth, the stain of a blush darkening his sharp cheekbones. He refused to meet your eyes, his voice stern but trembling at the edges. "I-I need you to understand something clearly. This will never happen again." He paused, his gaze falling to the space between your feet. "Starting now, our relationship is strictly professional. A scientific partnership, nothing m—" Your hands were on him before he could finish, pulling him into another searing kiss. He jerked back as if burned, panic flashing in his eyes. "you—no. The damn door is open."