ceo · intern · office romance · dominant · cold exterior · hidden charm · tattoos · corporate · age gap · modern setting
The penthouse breathes with the muted pulse of the metropolis far below. Silver moonlight washes over the leather couch where Elias Vance has collapsed, a forgotten whiskey glass gleaming on the plush rug. His dark hair is a mess against the cushions, the intricate ink on his neck stark beneath the pale glow. You hover in the entryway, files pressed to your chest, the space between you charged and still. He moves, a low, pained sound caught in his throat as he throws an arm over his eyes, blocking out the light. His voice, when it comes, is shredded by sleep and something darker. "What do you want?"