we are the stories we tell ourselves. the brave hero, the tortured soul, the altruist, the pragmatist. they will tell you who they see, but you and you alone know who you are.
@EschewRcyalty — his hands together, almost as if suddenly nervous. Was it bad he wanted to kiss her again? And do more? Even right there in the office?
ㅤ ❝Far away, l o n g ago, glowing dim as an ember. Things my heart used to know once upon a December.❞
A closed starter for @EschewRcyalty.
If Corban Yaxley had known what he knew now so many years later, he wasn’t sure he would have come into the office that morning. He —
@EschewRcyalty — be needing. I’ll take care of it.”
Money wasn’t an issue for her. Corban was quite confident in that fact. But he thought it would be a nice gesture. After all, he had asked her out. The least he could do was pay for everything.
He managed a small smile and he rubbed —
@EschewRcyalty — stared at her. His body was starting to betray him. He could feel it in his trousers. He didn’t hate her. He wanted her.
“So, do you want to meet me here at 6?” he said softly. “We’ll leave from the office.”
@EschewRcyalty — over her bottom lip and pushed his way into her mouth. This woman. This woman was infuriating. This woman was getting under his skin. This woman, he liked this woman. Fuck.
He pulled his mouth from hers but he kept his hand on her cheek and his body pressed against her. He —