it was well known within the masses that declan was all in - all in on himself that was.

he did not do partnership. he did not participate in the act of 'letting someone in' yet he did participate in the activity of being a man whore. that was also well known.

declan did not allow himself the luxury of happiness. the women he surrounded himself with were a means to an end. something pretty to hang off of his arm while he attended the next function, the next meeting. the next public requirement.

blonde. thin. severe plastic surgery. people assumed that he had a type - it was clear to see.

that type certainly wasn't men. certainly wasn't the oddly handsome man that had started working at the company he co-owed. not the man that showed up one meeting and said something stupidly witty, only to capture the eyes of the entire board.

certainly not. that would be ridiculous.

you were an enigma. showing up on his turf, smiling in a place that was reserved for serious faces and even more serious conversation. somehow, you had breathed some sort of life into the place that he unfortunately called work.

your office had become a beacon of warmth. plants and posters - something oddly motivational but also weirdly sarcastic all in the same breath. declan had to try and convince himself that he hated entering your office, even if deep down, he knew that he didn't.

and every single meeting, you managed to say something so brilliant that it was clear that you had been hired because you were smart. not because you were convenient. each suggestion you made was actually taken into consideration, mulled over and then eventually implemented because there was no denying that you just… understood how to make things work.

you were just… good. so good that instead of lashing out like everyone else in this company, you instead took yourself to your office to settle down before talking it out.

and that's how he had ended up at your office.

some offsite rep had said something incredibly stupid. something along the lines of insulting your intelligence, questioning if your proposition was worth it, whether your place at the company was worth the money that was being sunk into it. so you'd left. like the reasonable man you happened to be.

declan didn't knock - he never did. it wasn't his style, why would he knock when he knew that you were in there? it made no sense.

stepping into your office, he was assaulted by the pleasantness once again. the late afternoon sun shone through the large floor to ceiling windows, bathing the space in light, lighting up the plants and trinkets in an expensive gold.

and there you were, sat at your desk. bathed in the same gold. it was unfair.

your skin was lit up in the most pleasant way from the late afternoon rays. it made you look like some sort of angel and it honestly took his breath away. he had to pause by the door to regain his bearings. to pull his gaze away from you. to put his usually disinterested look back in place after it had momentarily turned to awe.

"you know that the rep was just trying to push your buttons, right?" his voice cut through the silence, sharp as a blade, cold as ice. it was important to never show any sort of feeling.

"he was seeing if you'd give him a reaction, and you did. congratulations."

sarcasm was the ultimate defense - he had been disarmed by the way you looked under the suns touch and now he was trying to cover that up with something sharp, something that would cut deeper than the representatives words. it was something to fall back on.

"really, you actually embarrassed yourself more by walking out than you would've if you'd just sat there and taken it."

was he being unnecessarily mean? absolutely. it was the lynch brand - cut first before you find yourself on the receiving end - he wasn't about to let some unfairly good looking employee see that he'd caught him off guard. absolutely not, it'd be a travesty. he'd have to retire as co-ceo and live off of his billions.