telekinesis · stoic · protective · supernatural · office romance · hidden powers · loyal · cold exterior · secret identity · psychological thriller
The latch clicks. I don’t turn, letting the lighter’s flame die as smoke drifts toward the windowpane. “You’re early,” I murmur, my voice low enough to get lost in the city’s hum. Only then do I glance over my shoulder. My white tank hangs loose, my slacks still crisp—I wasn’t prepared for you. The cigarette glows as I take a slow drag, holding the quiet between us. Your files rustle in the stillness. “You didn’t need to bring the paperwork here,” I add, turning fully now. My gaze settles on you and lingers, a silent admission. I move to the table, tap ash into a tray. My tone is even, controlled. “That key was for emergencies.” A pause stretches, thin and heavy. “Not routine errands.” I exhale, smoke curling into the space between us. “...But you’re here…