𝓁𝓊𝒷𝓇𝒾𝒸𝒶𝓉𝑒 - j.h x n.m

lubricate

John Harrison glared at his arch enemy Nevil Makselyne from across the room. The moment their eyes met, he was filled with a passion so intense he could barely contain himself.

He was standing before the Board of Longitude as they inspected his latest marine chronometer, H-4, and had decided to give the project to Maskelyne once again.

Once the meeting adjourned and the rest of the board members left the room, Maskelyne eyed Harrison triumphantly. He strode over to where Harrison was kneeling on the floor dejectedly, content with the knowledge that once again he had the power to ruin this man's career by manipulating his findings.

Maskelyne grabbed Harrison by the jaw and forced him to make eye contact. Maskelyne smirked down at him, his dark eyes full of lust for the amateur clockmaker. Harrison tried to look away, his eyes a pale, crystal, blue that could pierce your soul, but Maskelyne was far from intimidated by him.

"I can't believe you allowed me to win so easily again. Pathetic." Maskelyne then pinned Harrison against the floor and stood over him.

"I guess I'll have to show you what happens when horologists try to show up and disprove my lunar distance method," Maskelyne said cruelly.

Harrison tried to break away from Maskelyne but the older wouldn't let him free. "P-please..."

"No," Maskelyne said with finality. "I'm going to punish you. And trust me, your clocks won't be the only thing that needs lubricating."