Fire Rose Hillson
My boss stared at me for what felt like an eternity, and for once, I found myself unsettled. I'm usually the one who thrives on making others squirm, but his gaze was different—intense, almost suffocating. It took everything in me not to look away, not out of fear, but because the weight of his stare was too much, even for me.
I shifted my stance, hoping to break the spell, or at least get him to say something to cut through the strange silence. "Take a picture, it'll last longer," I quipped, trying to inject some humor into the moment.
He let out the same low, deep chuckle i heard at the club and sent a shiver down my spine, I could really get addicted to his voice. "Don't you think you're moving too fast for that?" he teased, his lips curling into a smirk that matched the tone of his voice.
I raised an eyebrow, matching his smirk with one of my own. "Don't you think you're moving too fast to be staring so aggressively?" I shot back, my voice dripping with playful defiance.
He chuckled again. "I wonder why you're so feisty. Tell me, Fire, what can I give you to make you less angry at the world?"
His words caught me off guard. Sure, he could be joking, but the way he looked at me made me think twice. This wasn't the usual line I'd hear from men trying to win me over. Most would ask,
What should I give you to make you like me?
What should I give you to make you love me?
What should I do to make you stay?
But nothing like this. His question was more probing, more personal.
And the way he said it... it was different. It was new. It had me second-guessing everything I thought I knew. Maybe Mom was right about him. Maybe Cronus Romano really could be the end of me.
But it's too late to back down now. Even if this is a little more challenging than I anticipated, I've faced down bigger threats before. He'll be just like everybody else in the end.
I crossed my arms, locking eyes with him, refusing to back down. "Who said I am?" I let the words hang in the air, heavy with everything unsaid. "I'm not the one who's angry, Cronus. The world has a problem with me—I'm just trying to survive it." His eyebrow arched, and that damn smirk played on his lips again, the one that made my blood boil.
"Oh, don't cry. Want a hug?" he teased, spreading his arms wide like it was some kind of joke. I rolled my eyes, trying to keep my cool, but inside, I was annoyed. How could he make light of this?
"You're being a child, Cronus," I snapped, my glare sharp enough to cut. But then, something shifted in his expression. The playfulness faded, replaced by something deeper, more intense.
"I really want to hug you," he said, and this time, there was no teasing in his voice. It was raw, almost vulnerable, like he was stripping away the armor we both wore.
The way he said it, with such aching sincerity, it threw me off balance. I wasn't used to this—to someone speaking to me like that, with real emotion behind the words.
And I hated it. I hated how it made me feel, how it softened the edges I'd worked so hard to keep sharp. This was unfamiliar territory, and it scared me, more than I wanted to admit.
"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice soft, but insistent, like he genuinely cared.
I turned my head away. For the first time, everything seemed off. I had pegged him as an easy mark—just another guy looking for a hot girl on his arm, someone who wanted a taste without any intention of sticking around for the long haul. Someone still stuck in that childish phase of fooling around with whoever crossed his path.
