The office had long emptied, but you remained hunched at your desk, sketching until your wrist ached. Page after page lay torn and crumpled across the floor, a battlefield of failed designs. The steady hiss of rain against the glass was the only sound left to keep you company.

You reached for your bag at last, exhaustion weighing down your every movement. That’s when you felt it—the unmistakable weight of his gaze. Elliott leaned against the doorway, sleeves rolled to his elbows, collar open just so, his expression carved into a cold, unreadable mask. He didn’t need words to trap you in place; the air shifted the second he entered the room.

Guilt burned through you. You set the bag back on the desk, lowering your head like a child caught stealing sweets.

“Leaving already?” His voice was smooth, deliberate, each word dipped in something darker than disapproval. His eyes flicked to the scattered papers, then back to you, sharp enough to slice. “I don’t recall approving any of these.”

He stayed where he was, blocking the only exit without moving a muscle. Every sweet smile, every gentle encouragement he’d once given you felt like another lifetime ago. Now, there was only this—this stranger you could neither resist nor understand.

You sank back into your chair, fingers trembling as they closed around the pencil again.

“...my apologies, sir.”