Redemption (Midas x Reader)

• VII •

I feel like I'm walking the goddamn green mile.

As I approached his office, I noticed that there was a keycard reader beside the doors, and that the handles were solid gold. Rook was right, there was no mistaking that this was his space.

I tried to compose myself for a minute before I knocked, smoothing my hands over my hair, taking deep breaths. Finally I worked up the nerve to gently rap on the door.

I could hear a chair scoot back, and then footsteps approaching.

Shit shit shit shit shit

The door opened, and I knew I looked like a deer in headlights. I was just trying to remind myself to breathe.

"Ahh, there you are. Come on in," he spoke, stepping aside so I could walk past him.

He was wearing the same type of suit as he was the first time I saw him, white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, waistcoat, tie, black gloves. He had on a pair of square-rimmed black glasses that accentuated the cut of his jawline. Also, he was wearing a shoulder holster, inside of which were two solid gold pistols, one under each arm. My eyes were locked onto them.

He glanced down to see what I was staring at, seemingly forgetting that he had them on. "Would you feel more comfortable if I removed these?" he asked, beginning to do so before I even answered.

I watched as he slid the holster off his shoulders, his partially exposed biceps flexing as he did so. He set the guns down on a table just inside the door.

"Now, let's try this again. Would you like to step inside?"

His accent had caught me off guard everytime I'd heard it. That deep voice, it was calming, and almost...pleasant. I wordlessly nodded, walking past him. I caught that scent again on the way by, fresh air and pure pheromones.

I heard him closing the door behind me, as I looked around the office. It was just as grand as everything else that belonged to him. His desk sat in front of a large bank of curved windows, and I felt like you could probably see the whole island from here. Darren was right about the view.

He walked around me, pulling out a chair from his desk for me to sit in, and I did so. But instead of sitting in his chair on the opposite side, he picked it up one-handed and carried it around the desk, placing it beside me, so that we would be facing each other.

God he must be stronger than he looks.

I was suddenly aware of us being alone together in this room, and him being able to overpower me easily if he wanted. I felt my throat getting tight.

"Would you like a cup of coffee? I was just about to pour myself one, it was a long night," he asked before he sat.

What did he mean by that?

My eyes shot up to him, and I nodded my head, watching him walk to the coffee pot on a table across the room. God, I needed to settle down, and stop reading so much into everything.

"How do you take it?" He asked. I tried to answer, but no sound came out, and I had to clear my throat a couple of times so that I could speak.

"Black is fine," I answered. I realized that this was the first thing I'd actually spoken since I left my room.

He walked back with two mugs, setting mine in front of me. I was just picking mine up to take a sip as he sat down, and his knee brushed against mine. I involuntarily jerked, having to set the mug back down with a thump or risk dropping it. I'd already spilled one cup today, I didn't need a repeat performance.