Charles climbed in through the window of his office, only to pause the moment his foot touched the floor—he slipped, landing hard with a grunt.
"Ahhh, damn it... I'm not that old yet," he muttered, rubbing his back as he sat up.
But something caught his attention.
The drawer.
It was open.
Charles blinked, then crawled over and checked inside. His brows furrowed. "I didn't leave the picture right on top…" he said quietly.
He reached in, grabbing the file hidden beneath the photos, and quickly placed it back on top to cover them. His thoughts ran in circles. Did someone go through my things? I must've forgotten to lock it...
Letting out a breath, Charles closed the drawer, slumped into his chair, loosened his tie, and unbuttoned the top of his shirt. The silence of the office wrapped around him like a memory. His hand absentmindedly brushed his chest, recalling the feeling of Edward's touch.
"I miss him..." The words slipped from his lips before he could stop them.
_
