summary: Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov are both in committed, long-term relationships. So they should not be this addicted to each other anymore. Or, in an alternate timeline, Shane and Rose are in a long-term relationship and Ilya marries Svetlana; but they are miserable unless they're together.
genre: slow burn, smut, angst, cheating/affair
warnings/notes: swearing, no real warnings for this part; purely part of the slow burn of it all!
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SHANE HOLLANDER CAN'T DO THIS. He is not equipped for this. He needs the oxygen to enter him faster, needs his heart to stop racing, needs his skin to stop crawling.
He is sitting in his parked car, pulled over on the side of the road. He can’t see through the tears streaming down his cheeks. His sobs are violent now, tearing through his chest and making his abs hurt. He can’t catch his breath.
Ilya Rozanov had called him by his name. He called him “Shane” in a way that shattered the air around him. The oxygen around him stilled the second that he heard it. He could feel his heart beat against his ribcage, his blood streaming through his veins. He could feel his eyes in their sockets.
He can’t feel like that. Not towards him, not now and not ever.
“Shane.” Ilya had said it against Shane’s mouth. He had never called him that before. It was always “Hollander.” It was a wall that they both placed years ago, protecting either of them from gaining feelings more than the sexual ones they shared. It was intimate. It felt too intimate.
Shane rests his head on the steering wheel. He takes a deep breath, counts his fingers, reminds himself to stop biting the inside of his cheek, wipes his tears and snot, and manages to drive the rest of the way home before breaking down again.
The next day, he attempts to feel normal. He works out in the morning, he meets with his parents, he works out some more, and keeps his mind off of Ilya Rozanov.
That night, he meets Rose Landry. She is beautiful, funny, with a bright smile and easy conversation. He shoves the pain and ache in his chest from the night before deep down.
Things are okay. He is fine. This is how normal people feel. He could love her, maybe.
After a fun night with her and his teammates, Shane asks her, “Would you like to go on a date with me tomorrow night?”
Rose, shining under the bar lights and still enjoying her win during their poker game, quickly smiles up at him and answers, “Yes, I would love that.”
-+-+-+-
Shane Hollander is pretty sure that he fell in love with Ilya Rozanov a long time ago. Or at least, started to fall in love with him.
He knows that.
He knows what love feels like. He knows that love grows and molds into you, crawling like ivy across your body and veins slowly.
He also knows that he can’t love Ilya Rozanov. And that Rozanov does not love him back. And that is fine.
He will learn to stop loving him. He will learn how to slow the growth of love that threatens to twist and coil around his heart before it encapsulates it completely.
-+-+-+-
Dating Rose is extremely easy. Nothing like the secret sex he had with Rozanov, his relationship with Rose is public, comfortable, and nice. He feels good with her. He feels good holding her hand in public, going out with his teammates with her, seeing her support in the crowd.
But at night, when he’s alone, he can’t help but think about Ilya Rozanov. He pictures Rozanov when he jerks off in the shower, imagining Rozanov’s mouth on his and hands all over his body. He pictures Rozanov pounding into him when he uses his dildo to get off. He pictures Rozanov when he watches porn, or when he sees a particularly sexual scene in a movie.
A few weeks go by, and Shane pushes these feelings aside as he kisses his girlfriend. He pushes these feelings down as he hopes for a text from “Lily,” the fake name Rozanov put in his phone years ago.
-+-+-+-
The first time Shane sees Rozanov again, they are playing against each other.
The Montreal Voyageurs versus Boston Bears was always an anticipated game. Mostly, because Shane knew he would be having amazing sex afterwards. This time, though, was different. Shane has to stop himself from texting Rozanov before the game.
The game is intense. Rozanov is brutal and harsh, and the Bears are doing incredible as a result. Shane hates losing. He hates losing at hockey most of all. But Rozanov’s coldness is making Shane’s chest hurt more than the lack of any score is. Shane is shoved into the glass twice, and it isn’t in the playful way it usually is.
Shane can’t help but try to catch Rozanov’s eye. He won’t even look at Shane.
The Voyageurs win 1-0. It is a score that should have never happened. He starts to get a familiar feeling in his chest, so he texts Rose.
Shane Hollander
Meeting at Ciel, right?
Rose Landry
yes! can’t wait to see you <3 shooting has been sooooo boringgggg
Shane Hollander
I’m excited to see you. Game was rough.
Rose Landry
sorry babe!! congrats on the win though!
see u soon!! <3
Ciel is a fun club that Shane has only been to a few times with Rose and Rose’s best friend Miles. It’s colorful, and plays good music, and Shane really wants a drink.
He meets Rose immediately, finding her easily at a booth with a few of her actor friends.
“Hi, Handsome,” Rose greets with a smile. Shane can’t help but smile back.
He joins her booth, the conversation between everyone coming easily. Shane always has a hard time in large groups, never really knowing how to continue a conversation or what to do with his hands. Luckily, his wonderful girlfriend curls up next to him easily and casually initiates and drives the conversation between them and her close friend Miles.
“Let’s dance!” She finally pulls Shane out of the booth. “Come on. Miles get us some champagne!” She calls over her shoulder as she does.
Shane allows her to pull him to the dance floor just as a fun song comes on, allowing her to navigate him through the crowd and finding a place to sway in the middle.
He really, truly, believes that he can love her. Eventually. She helps him pick out outfits, she loves to show him off and hang out with him even though they both know he can be a bit awkward around people, and he’s pretty sure he would follow her no matter where she brought him. The love for her is already growing, he thinks, even though the ivy of hers is soft and different from the ones prickled into his skin that hold the name “Rozanov.”
They’re dancing now, swaying back and forth. Her hands are curled into his shirt, casually twisting and curling and lifting it up as they dance. Shane feels comfortable with her.
They don’t need to speak. They just dance, sway, and enjoy the music. He’s sure they looked pretty good together like this, under the pink lights of the club.
Shane looks across the room and spots a Boston Bears’ player. Specifically, one he often sees with Rozanov. He instantly feels his heart squeeze in his chest, his stomach churning. Rozanov cannot be here.
He shakes the thought out of his mind, looking back to his girlfriend. His beautiful, kind girlfriend, who is tracing his abs with her manicured fingers. His wonderful girlfriend who always checks in on him and who he genuinely enjoys his time with.
Miles hands them their champagne glasses, and turns around to dance with someone nearby that Shane couldn’t see. Rose thanks him for the glasses and clanks hers against Shane’s before taking a sip.
As they take a drink, Shane spots him.
Rozanov.
Here. Dancing.
No, not dancing. Making out with a tall blonde woman a few yards away.
Shane’s throat goes dry. Suddenly, everything hurts. The music is too loud, too many people are talking at once, Rose is too close, his skin feels hot, and he can feel the fabric of his clothes on his body. He suddenly can’t breathe.
He steps aside, giving Rose the first excuse he could think of, and tries to get away. To where, he doesn’t know exactly; he just needs to leave.
Rozanov breaks his kiss and makes eye contact with Shane. For too long. He is kissing her, but his eyes are on Shane’s. He can feel tears in the back of his eyes, knowing that Rozanov doesn’t feel this same pain in his chest as he does. He knows that something as simple as his first name meant something different to him than it did for Rozanov.
Shane also knows that if he lets himself get into that position again, he will say something that will ruin things forever. And he cannot let that happen. Even though he wanted nothing more than to be that random blonde girl that Rozanov was now trailing kisses down the neck of. He had to push down the imagery of pushing that girl away from him, pulling him into a passionate kiss, and getting on his knees in the middle of the club and taking Rozanov into his mouth in front of everyone. Which was a disgusting thought.
And Shane decides then and there: he will not sleep with Ilya Rozanov again. They’re done.
He returns to Rose, takes her hand, and takes her home, intent on making his heart feel the same for her as he feels for someone else.
You are never late to a fandom. Your fic is never "invalid" for being "late". Your fic doesn't need a high word limit. Your fic does not need a high standard. Your fic does not need to be highly popular. Your fic isn't less valid than a popular author's fic. Your fic isn't inheritly bad. Your fic is amazing. Your fic is valid. The only thing that matters is that you're having fun. Fandom is not consumption and consumerism. Fandom is fun, free and for the people. Fandom is not a popularity contest. We're all nerds at the end of the day.
the fact that i'm no longer the same age as the protagonists of novels and films i once connected to is so heartbreaking. there was a time when I looked forward to turning their age. i did. and i also outgrew them. i continue to age, but they don't; never will. the immortality of fiction is beautiful, but cruel.
heyy! how are you doing?? will the erwin fic continue? 🥹
hi hello, i’ve been well! and yes!! sorry i’ve been gone — so much irl stuff happened recently!! but erwin fic will continue soon now that i have time :D
summary: erwin smith was the embodiment of intimation, money, and power. and you were his personal assistant.
genre: office au; slow burn, smut, angst
word count: 1.4k
warnings/notes: swearing, no real warnings for this part; purely part of the slow burn of it all!
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masterlist
THE SUN HAD LONG PASSED THE SKY, leaving the blues of the moon to dance along the place. You were still in the office, finishing up last minute details before the weekend.
Work has been intense the past week. With several new (huge) business deals, new hires, and events planned… you haven’t had time to breathe. Erwin was at the peak of all things, which meant you managed both him and you. Usually, you and Moblit go out on Saturdays to relax and talk about literally anything other than work. But with everything going on in both of your departments, you thought about just having a relaxing weekend without leaving the apartment.
You went into Erwin’s office briefly to place a folder on his desk. It was always extremely clean and organized, with big windows overlooking the neon city. His desk was meticulously organized, paperwork stacked in specific piles and pens placed perfectly. Bookshelves lined the walls, full of thick books and sorted by author. He even had a few potted plants around the room.
You were just about to leave when you heard ringing. You checked your pockets; it wasn’t your cell or work phone. Twisting back around, you found Erwin’s work cell ringing on the edge of his desk.
Maybe you should leave it. But you were his personal assistant… you could just answer it and say that he was out of the office and leave a message for him. It must have been important if they were calling this late.
Deciding against better judgment, “Mr. Smith’s phone, this is his assistant.” You answered, placing the work phone to your ear and prepping a pen and sticky note. “Mr. Smith is not in the office right now, but I can leave a message for him.”
“I told you she’d answer!” Hange giggled on the other end. The music was loud, conversations of strangers muffled, and clanging of glasses echoed. They must be at a bar.
“What’s going on, Hange?” You asked, dropping your customer service voice and prepared pen. You were worried at first, thinking it was a work emergency. But, with them still being at the bar, you were more worried about a personal or medical emergency. “Is everything alright?”
“Everything is fine!” Hange giggled. “Kind of! Levi is here! Say hi, Levi!” There was a pause with no reply. “Oh, he’s being annoying! Anyway, I think you should come here!”
You sighed. “I’m about to leave the office and go home, Hang. I’ll see you on Monday.”
As you were moving the phone back to hang up, Erwin’s voice made you pull it back. He must have been away, leaving Hange and their friend behind. “Who are you calling?”
“No one!” Hange giggled, their voice in a sing-song tone.
There was movement on the other side, a pause, mumbled arguing, and then Erwin Smith was speaking to you. “I apologize for them. I realize that I should not have left them unattended. Please enjoy your night.” He paused. “You are still at the office?”
“Yes. I was just leaving, but your work phone rang.” You answered, slipping into your polite voice that you always had with him. He was your superior after all.
“That was my fault. I must have left it when I returned earlier.” He replied. Another pause. Someone was saying something to him. “I do not want to bother you as you are leaving the office, especially after I had already told you to go home, but is there a chance you could bring me that phone? We are at Scouts and I might need that phone over the weekend. I apologize for this.”
You sucked in a breath as if you were just waterboarded and they released the cloth. Something about the tone in his voice automatically coursed through you. Like your body adjusts to being in the office and on the clock just by his presence alone.
“Yes, sir. I can be there in fifteen.”
“I appreciate it. I shall see you soon.”
You hung up.
And immediately called Moblit.
YOU WERE SHAKING AS YOU DROVE. Moblit had talked to you briefly, laughing hysterically at the thought of Erwin and Hange getting drunk with a college friend. He was doing something with his roommates, so he didn’t stay on the phone for long, and told you to catch him up on the “state of them” when you go out for drinks the next day.
You arrived at the Scouts bar and parked to the side. It was a Friday night, so there were plenty of people that littered the bar and the parking lot outside. It was common for office workers or college students to prowl the bar; it was even the usual spot you and Moblit went to on Saturdays.
Locking the car, you entered the bar. Scanning the crowd, you found your boss instantly.
He was a sunflower in a lavender field. Tall, bright, and commanding attention. He stood against a booth, leaning against the ledge meant for hanging coats. He was deep in a conversation with someone whose back was toward you. It was almost strange, seeing him talk casually and intoxicated. He was full of smiles, which brought a warmth to him that you’d never witnessed, and his arms crossed across his chest showed an array of muscles that you never noticed.
Erwin’s eyes looked up briefly and caught yours. He didn’t motion, didn’t drop his smile. He simply watched you as you navigated through the crowded bar towards him.
“Here’s your phone, Sir.” You said when you reached his side. You had to speak a little loud over the music, but he seemed to hear you just fine. He grabbed the phone without looking at it. His eyes were focused on you.
“Levi,” Erwin turned his attention away from you to the person he was talking to in the booth. “This is my assistant.”
You turned around to finally see the Levi person that was the topic of the day. He was nursing a Scotch, leaning back against the cushion of the booth. He was the opposite of Erwin: dark, glooming. But they both had a similar aura of authority. Something commanding in a presence that you couldn’t quite place.
“I see.” Was all Levi said while looking at you.
Your name echoed behind you just as Erwin was starting to say something. For a split moment, you thought that you might see someone you went to university with and mentally prepared for the “oh my God, how are you, what are you up to now?” conversation that seems to always follow post-grad. But instead, you were nearly tackled by Hange Zoe.
“I forgot you were coming!”
“Hang, I was on the phone with you less than fifteen minutes ago.” You couldn’t help giggling. You weren’t used to seeing them like this.
“You should stay!” They put their arm around your shoulder as you looked to your boss, who seemed to find the interaction fascinating. He still had his arms crossed, shirt sleeves rolled up just past his elbows, and he looked at you and Hange with a look in his eye that you couldn’t quite place. Interest? Confusion? “Have a few drinks with us!”
“It’s late and I am just getting out of the office.” You were so close to Hange’s face that you could smell the vodka in their breath. “I was only stopping by on my way home. Maybe some other time, okay?”
“Awh,” They pouted. Only for a moment, however, because they quickly found solace in plopping in the booth next to Levi and rambled to him about something you couldn't make out over the music.
“I should go.” You said to Erwin.
He finally stopped leaning against the booth and stood straight in front of you, revealing his full height. “Let me walk you out.”
You nodded, unable to answer. He nodded to Levi and Hange before leading you back to the door. You followed without a single thought, easily slipping into your position a few paces behind him. It was common for you to follow him like this. It was unspoken. Natural.
The brisk midnight air hit your face as he walked you to your car. The parking lot had a lot less people, but you could still see the stragglers and a few groups waiting on Ubers.
“Thank you, but you didn’t have to walk me out.” You told him, opening your car door but not getting in. He stood in front of your door near your headlight, placing his hands in his pant pockets. “I hope you have a good weekend, Sir.”
“You do not have to refer to me by that outside of work.” Erwin said. You froze. “Sir, I mean. You can call me Erwin. We are both off of the clock. You are not my subordinate or assistant right now.”
You blinked. You didn’t know what to say. There was something different about him tonight. You had always felt breathless around him, but now you were speechless too. You had never talked to him this much outside of work-related topics or at work until tonight. You’ve had brief conversations before, sure, but never anything that goes beyond something you’d have in your resume.
But tonight he told you to go home early. He worried about the amount of work he’d been giving you. He asked you to bring him something outside of work hours. He said the words “I apologize for this” to you. And now… now he was telling you that outside of work, you can drop the honorific you gave him.
Maybe he was drunk and you couldn’t tell.
“Okay.” Was all you could say.
He nodded as a confirmation that he heard you. He took a step back from your car, and gave a simple, “Thank you for bringing my phone. I’ll see you Monday.” before heading back into the bar.
please do not interact if you are under the age of 18. do not repost any of my works on any site.
summary: erwin smith was the embodiment of intimation, money, and power. and you were his personal assistant.
genre: office au; slow burn, smut, angst
word count: 2.1k
warnings/notes: swearing, no real warnings for this part; purely self-indulgent bc i just watched aot for the first time and i love him so bad
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masterlist
YOU EASILY SLIPPED THROUGH THE CITY STREETS, despite the pile of things you carried. Two coffees, a binder of paperwork, a folder for a new proposal, your laptop, and a wrapped pastry. It was your routine at this point, and you grew accustomed to having an insane amount of things to rush around with.
It has been just over a year since you became Erwin Smith’s assistant. You were an intern with the company the year before, and you were extremely excited when they asked if you would be interested in the assistant job. Erwin had never needed an assistant before. It boosted your ego a bit, if you were completely honest, so you did your best to be needed.
You shifted through the people, finally making it to the business building. You sent the front-desk attendants a smile as you scanned your ID to head up the elevators. Erwin shouldn’t be in for at least another fifteen minutes, you were making good time.
Hange Zoe’s assistant held the door open for you, greeting you with a similar stack of paperwork and coffees in his hands.
“Good morning, Moblit.” You greeted, thanking him for holding the elevator. Moblit Berner had been there longer than you have, assisting one of the other higher ups you considered a friend. “I thought I saw Hange’s car here already?”
“We haven’t left.” He confessed, clicking the 11th floor. “They sent me on a coffee run, then ended up printing a bunch of paperwork downstairs, and then sent me for some research products. I don’t think either of us has slept.”
You felt bad for him, and you would’ve given him a reassuring gesture if your hands weren’t full. “It’ll pass soon, they’ve finally confirmed the deal with Yeager.”
Moblit motioned to the pile you held. “Mr. Smith seems to keep you busy too.”
“As always. What are we assistants for?” You half-joked. He chuckled.
The elevator dinged as you made it to your shared floor. He started to the right, giving you a quick smile as he departed. You smiled back, heading towards the left.
Erwin’s office was larger than the others, in the corner of the building and surrounded by floor-length windows. You had a desk just outside of it, fully decorated and meticulously organized.
You plopped into your chair, setting everything down quickly. The binder was an assignment due today, and the folder was given to you last night for you to create notes; both were completed and ready for your boss.
You started your morning routine of checking your email and confirming the schedule for the day. As you replied to someone about meeting times, you felt Erwin come in.
There was always a shift in the air when he arrived. He had a commanding presence, sucking all of the air from your lungs like a vacuum. You had worked with him for over a year and you were still greatly intimated, anxious, and small under his gaze. You didn’t think he knew just how terrifying he truly was, oblivious to the effect he had on everyone. Or maybe he did and used it to his advantage.
He always looked incredible, with a tailored suit and clean shave. You would be lying if you said that he wasn’t attractive. But in the morning light, he always looked the best.
“Good morning.” You greeted when he reached your desk. You handed him his coffee, the paperwork, and his daily schedule. “Everything should be ready for the Yeager deal. Please let me know if you need any changes.”
“I do.” He said, voice deep and warm. He hasn’t even spared you a glance. “An old friend of mine is visiting today. Could you reschedule my lunch meeting and make a reservation for me?”
“Absolutely, Sir.” You agreed instantly. “Is there anywhere specific you’d like to go with this friend?”
“Somewhere clean will do.” He flipped open the binder with one hand. “I will keep you updated on these notes.”
You felt yourself let out a breath the second he entered his office. You hadn’t realized you were holding it.
You made a few calls. The lunch meeting was supposed to be with other people in the building, so you were lucky enough to have an easy conversation with each. You reserved a spot at a nicer restaurant in the city that was known to be clean and well-reviewed. You sent Erwin a new version of his schedule via email and he instantly approved it.
When you first started this job, you had no idea that you would be here long. It was your first job out of graduation, and you only planned for the internship to get you to a bigger and better administrative or business-related job. Yet, here you were. Because you were good at this job and rather enjoyed it, and not just because it was a job.
Hange Zoe, followed closely by Moblit, plopped down at a chair right in front of your desk without so much as an introduction. Moblit stayed standing, looking exhausted and clear-minded all at once.
“The schedule update!” Hange exclaimed, as if you knew what they were talking about.
You raised an eyebrow. If they wanted to argue with you about moving their lunch with Erwin, they wouldn’t be so chipper. You were confused.
“Mr. Smith’s?” You offered. You only made scheduling for you and your boss; Hange’s had nothing to do with you.
“He’s having lunch today with an old friend of ours.” Hange explained, finally; they were nearly jumping out of their skin. “You should totally ask him to invite me!”
You would never do that. You were not one to talk to Erwin outside of what he asked of you or if he talked to you directly. In your two years with the company, you don’t think you have ever asked him something out of turn. Let alone invite someone to a lunch that he is hosting and that you already reserved.
“Hange, I don’t…” You started, but they were already cutting you off.
“Please! I’m sure they’d love to have me with them!” They pleaded, though you could feel an aura of anger behind their tone. Then they paused. “Wait, why wasn’t I invited in the first place? This is ridiculous! Is Erwin currently in a meeting?”
“No, but he is preparing for one in about half an hour.” You told them. “How do you even know who he’s going to lunch with? I only wrote lunch with friend on the schedule?”
“Because Erwin does not have many friends.” Hange sent you a wink and jumped from your desk to knock on the office door. Erwin let them in with a quiet, “Come in”.
You exchanged a look with Moblit.
“Their birthday is coming up.” Moblit said, changing the topic, sighing as he took a seat where Hange just was. “And I’m thinking about getting them melatonin.”
You chuckled, looking towards the door. You couldn’t hear a thing that they were saying. “Don’t you think it would’ve been fun to know them in college?”
You and Moblit were the youngest ones at the company, close in age though he was a little older than you. It was nice to have someone your age and at your same position to talk to.
He smiled. “I don’t think I can imagine them in a classroom, or at a bar, or at a sports game. I think they’ll always be in business suits in my brain.”
Before you could reply, they both exited the office. Hange was still talking, saying something about how they were the one who introduced them and how it is stupid, but Erwin was just gently guiding her out of his office.
“I have already told you that we can meet together after work.” Erwin replied, seemingly unaffected by Hange’s antics. “This lunch is just between us, you must understand.”
“There’s been radio silence for years. And I deserve to talk to him too.” They said, standing directly in front of your boss. There was no fear, no hesitation.
“I understand. And as I’ve said, we can meet together after work.” He almost reassured her. You had never heard him use that tone before, it was almost soft. Almost. “However, Levi has asked to speak to me alone for lunch. If it makes you feel better, I will report everything back to you.”
You had never seen them like this. Friendly, casual, and talking openly. You had never really considered your boss anything other than that: your boss. You never considered him to be a friend or have friends, or have a social life outside of work. It seemed to be the only thing he did; he was always working weekends, holidays, and you even got a call in the middle of the night from the office before. The way he spoke to Hange, with ease and friendship, was strange to you.
This lunch seemed to be important. You had never heard of this “Levi” before.
“Sir?” You asked, mainly because the tension in the room could be cut with a knife. “Is everything alright?”
He seemed to register where he was and who he was around. He looked at you and Moblit, nodding a bit as a greeting as if you were not there the whole time. He was typically very observant; this friend they were discussing must be very distracting.
“I apologize.” Erwin told you. He straightened his back. “Everything is just fine, thank you for your concern.” He turned to Hange again. “I will talk to you after lunch.”
And he was back in his office.
———
IT WAS LATE. The sun was low on the horizon, letting in spears of orange light into the office. Everyone else had gone home for the night, yet you still had plenty of work to do. You wanted to get as much as you could done before you got home, never wanting to take work home with you.
You were typing away on your keyboard when the elevator dinged, indicating someone was getting off on your floor. It must be the janitor, you thought, and continued to work.
“You are still here?” Erwin’s voice interrupted you.
You nearly jumped from your chair. His interruption made your skin hot, a strike of electricity shot through your spine. You looked up at him.
He was no longer in his suit; instead, he was in casual jeans and a button-down blue shirt that matched his eyes. The oranges and reds from outside reflected off of him in a way that made him look like a photograph. His hair was still perfectly styled, and he still stood as if the world was at his command. And it was.
“I just wanted to get some final work done before the weekend.” You confessed, swiveling in your chair to face him. “What are you doing here?”
Erwin stood there for a moment, blinking down at you with a furrowed brow. Considering. Thinking. You felt tiny under his gaze. He wasn’t going to answer your question, so you assumed he was grabbing something he left.
“Did I give you too much work?” He finally asked.
You took a breath, trying to get oxygen into your empty lungs. “No, no.”
He paused again.
“Finish on Monday, then, and go home.” He said. “It’s late on a Friday night. I am sure you’d prefer to go out with your college friends.”
You nearly laughed in his face. “That’s what Saturdays are for.”
This was the most you two have talked outside of work-talk. You kind of liked it.
Erwin almost smiled. The edges of his lips quirked up only a little, but not enough.
“I suppose you’re right.” He started to pass your desk, placing a hand on the back of your chair. You stilled, looking at him. “But go home soon. If there is ever that much work for you to do again, please inform me.”
The electricity went down your spine again. A jolt of something unfamiliar, loud, and present, that made you almost gasp out loud.
You nodded.
please do not interact if you are under the age of 18. do not repost any of my works on any site.
