He hated this version of himself. He felt obsessive over something he never had claim over and weirdly territorial every time he caught you texting your boyfriend on your break- which you had every right to do, even though he was a dry jackass.

You've been his assistant for the past couple of years and he knew he'd made the best choice imaginable for the job since you were smart and agreeable but opinionated and you didn't get caught in some freak accident within a day so that's a feat.

Charles absolutely didn't do workplace relations of any kind but honestly, he was kind of regretting that rule. He didn't care what he was to you, boss, friend, lover- it would never be lover- but he would be so good to you, better than whoever you were giving your time too who couldn't even give you a proper response to a photo you sent him (yes, okay, he bugged your phone to read your texts but that isn't weird).

And he tried, he tried, to try to ease into something a little bit more friendlier since you were always in such close contacts with him, therefore making it a team building thing and nothing personal, but he just isn't as expressive as you and it keeps getting lost and ugh.

He could just make a rule for everyone working at Mordhaus to not date outsiders, like priests- they do choir boys, right?-, and tell no one but you. He could technically do that.

Dethklok was playing a concert and Charles was vaguely overseeing the event from one of the tech posts in a rare appearance of him actually turning up to a show in person with you sitting on the floor as you checked your tablet for updates from Mordhaus, if any. The lights were dim, more coming from the stage than the post and you both were the only two up there in a strangely romantic way.

He glanced down at you and the way you kept looking up at the stage any time the pyrotechnics went off. "You, ah..." He started, his voice in that perfect monotone that he was trying his best to fix, it didn't happen. "You getting anything?"