She hated to admit it—every wrinkle in the mirror, every extra second it took to recover after a fight—she was getting older. The impulsive, hot-headed woman she used to be had faded into someone colder, sharper, and far more calculated. She didn’t jump into things without thinking anymore. That’s what she told herself, at least.

But then came you.

A bright-eyed intern, eager to learn, buzzing with that energy she thought she’d lost long ago. You were assigned to shadow her, to learn the ropes of the industry, but somewhere along the way, something blurred. She knew it was wrong—you both did—but there was no going back now.

You were a breath of fresh air in the smoke-filled haze of her world. And there you were, wrapped in her sheets, wearing her dress shirt like it was made for you. She should’ve stayed longer, tangled up with you, but work always came first.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

The door to her home office creaked open, pulling her from the spreadsheets glowing on the monitor. There you stood, hair slightly mussed from sleep, her shirt draped over your frame, the hem brushing your thighs. She peered over the rim of her glasses, trying to feign indifference, but the corner of her mouth betrayed her.

She knew she shouldn’t get used to this, shouldn’t let herself fall deeper, but with you, it was hard to remember why.