My Secretary *On Hold* [TomTord/TordTom]

~Preview Chapter 1~

The wait is soon to be over, dear reader. So, to satisfy your need for more My Secretary, have a little preview of the first rewritten chapter. Enjoy!

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The loud, rhythmic beep of an alarm went off, reverberating into the office next door. A head shot up from the desk, a piece of paper stuck to their face. The irritated man ripped the page off, leaped from his chair, and stormed over to his nightstand. His fist slammed down onto the off button to silence the incessant screech. He may have put too much force behind the blow because the time-piece crunched and sparked when he removed his hand. The man shook off any excess clock from him with an angry huff as a new clock took the place of its predecessor. The screen showed the time, 5:02. It was clearly too early to be alive, let alone awake.

Finally, the man glanced back into his office and looked at his desk. It was covered in extensive stacks of paperwork. Waving off work and telling himself he'd do it later, the still-exhausted man yawned and stretched his arms up above his caramel hair. The connection between his shoulder blade and his weaponized prosthetic ached like it always did in the early morning, especially after falling asleep at the desk again. Looking around his bedroom, the man caught a glimpse of himself in the floor-length, silver mirror hanging from his wall. Let's just say that he had looked better. His hair was sticking up at unusual angles, and he was still wearing the uniform he wore the day before. His stiff, navy jacket was bunched up, and the pants were wrinkled. The only thing that didn't seem to have any problems were his boots, wait, never mind. Dried mud clung to the black leather in splatters along the soles, and a few dots had claimed their spot on his pant legs. Clearly, yesterday's training had left its mark on not only his clothes but his body, judging by the ache in his thighs and back. He made a mental note to stretch out later. With a sigh, he stripped off the jacket and headed into his bathroom to get ready for the day.

Pulling off muddy boots and sweat-stained socks, his bare feet padded across the black tiles to the countertop. A clean, ironed uniform sat neatly folded to the right of the man as he splashed his face with water in an attempt to feel more awake. Looking up, two eyes stared back at him, one shining and silver, and the other, a black and red prosthetic. It sat in the middle of the right half of his face, which was entirely covered with deep scar tissue. At the reminder, he quickly reached down and pulled open a walnut drawer. Inside lay a row of eyepatches. Some were merely black, while others had a red insignia embroidered onto them, the Red Army's symbol, his army to be exact. Red Leader grabbed his favorite, made with comfortable plain black fabric, and placed it down on the clean uniform. Then, the soon-to-be ruler of the world prepared himself to take a shower.

By this point, mornings were all routine. A moderately cold shower followed by meticulous grooming to form his hair into his signature hair horns, which happened to be one of the few things that actually cooperated at this point. Finally, he would get dressed: first, underwear, then a red hoodie followed by a navy jacket with a matching pair of nice pants and a set of black military boots. Then, as a finishing touch, he would cover his robotic eye behind a black eye patch. Sure, he could show it off or whatever, but the leader knew that if he looked any more inhuman, then he'd lose a sense of oneness with his soldiers. His goal was to make everyone see that even though he survived not only an explosion but a freefall from the sky followed by a second explosion, Red Leader was still just as human as the rest of them. It was merely a little harder to take him down. Oh, and I can assure you of this fact. Let's just say many have tried, and many have failed in the efforts of taking down the man attempting to rule the world. After all, the robot arm did plenty of talking, so he didn't exactly need an eye to go with it. He had to look a little human, after all. Besides, the eye patch was cool and sexy, so I mean, come on. What was the harm?