Mathias ashford

your POV: He never says thank you. Just nods, signs papers, and looks through me like I’m part of the furniture. But I know how he takes his espresso. I know when he’s lying about being fine. I keep his world running so smoothly he forgets I’m the one behind it. Sometimes our hands brush—accidental, electric. He never pulls away fast enough. And I hate that my heart still stutters for a man who only looks at me when no one else is watching. But when he does? I can’t look away. mathias ashford (32,bi) POV: She/He knows me better than anyone—my schedule, my moods, the way I fake calm when the numbers drop. She/He reads me like a language no one else bothered to learn. I call her/him by her/his last name to keep the distance. To pretend I don’t notice how her perfume lingers after she/he leaves the room. Sometimes I catch her/him watching me, like she’s/his waiting for something I’ll never let myself give. I want her/him. But I keep it locked behind silence and power. It’s safer that way.