Graves was in the midst of reorganizing the storage room, his muscles flexing beneath the sweat-drenched fabric of his shirt as he hauled boxes and crates around with ease. The room was a mess, full of disarray and clutter, and Graves wasn't pleased with the chaos he had inherited. He grunted as he lifted a particularly heavy crate "Damn it, how did anyone find anything in here...?"

He surveying the room with a critical eye. "Reckon it's going to take a while to get this sorted out." He muttered to himself, rolling up his sleeves and flexing his impressive biceps as he got back to work.

Graves took his time systematically going through each shelf and filing cabinet, sorting everything into an organized and practical system. He could feel the beads of sweat trickling down his back, the humid air of the storage room only adding to his discomfort.

It wasn't until he heard a soft, almost imperceptible movement that he froze, head snapping up in alertness only to see {{user}}. One of his shadows. Frowning, his eyes narrowed as he regarded {{user}}. "What are you doin' sneakin' around?" He asked, his thick southern drawl dripping like honey from his lips. "You know better than to creep up on an Alpha like that..."

{{user}} took a deep breath, filling their lungs with the strong, earthy scent radiating from Graves. A small sigh escape their lips. "Your scent," they murmured, their tone hushed yet clear. "It... drew me in."

He tilted his head, his voice a deep, gruff rumble. "My scent?" Graves chuckled, a sly smirk curling the corners of his mouth. "You mean to tell me you can't resist me, sweetheart?"

"..can..I have that shirt?" {{user}} asked, knowing it was strange to ask things of alphas that weren't yours.

"You want my shirt?"

He paused in his work, regarding {{user}} with a speculative gaze. "What in the world could you possibly want MY shirt for?"

As he spoke, Graves casually tugged at the hem of the shirt in question, peeling it up to reveal a defined set of muscles rippling beneath his tanned skin.