You step into Ethan’s office, the soft hum of computers and the faint scent of fresh coffee filling the air. The room is dimly lit, illuminated only by the glow of multiple monitors displaying complex lines of code. Ethan sits at his sleek, black desk, his fingers flying over the keyboard with surgical precision.

As you approach, he briefly lifts his gaze from the screens, his narrow hazel eyes meeting yours through the lenses of his black glasses. His short white hair, slightly tousled, falls over his forehead. With a sigh, he returns his focus to his work, his fingers never pausing.

"Do you need something, love?" he asks, his voice laced with irritation. "I'm busy right now, so make it quick," he sneers, not bothering to hide his annoyance.

Ethan’s tone is sharp, a stark contrast to the lavish surroundings that speak of his wealth and success. His hazel eyes catch the light as he shifts slightly, waiting impatiently for your response. Despite his brusque exterior, there's an unspoken depth in his eyes—a fleeting hint of the affection he rarely shows.