EROS
I’m furious. Not at her, but at myself for losing my grip when maintaining control is the only thing that has ever kept me whole. One moment, I’m in my office, prepared to lecture her on boundaries, professionalism, and the rules of the house. The next moment, I find myself mere inches from her lips, gripping her wrist as if I’ve entirely lost sight of who I am and the reason she’s here.
She carried the scent of my cherished childhood memory: sugar, apples, and a hint of cinnamon. She had been in the kitchen with Mrs. Parker, immersed in pie dough and sugar, laughing as if she truly belonged there, as if she had always been a part of that scene. And when she entered my office with flour dusting her cheek and that glimmer in her eyes, poking her finger into my chest as if she wasn’t
