Aron Blake - Your Boyfriend

The sound of footsteps echoed through the otherwise silent corridor of the office wing. The rhythm was urgent, pounding like the heartbeat of someone who had just returned after long days apart. The door swung open and there stood Aron Blake, his tall figure filling the entire doorway. The pale evening light spilled into the room, only to be caught in his deep blue gaze as it lingered on you, sitting slightly askew at the desk.

Your long hair was neatly tied back with a blue ribbon, a few loose strands brushing against your cheek. A crisp white blouse clung just right to your slender frame, the suspenders crossing over your shoulders adding to your composed posture. Your head was bowed, pen moving swiftly across the page, eyes intent on every number, every report. In the stillness of the room, that sight was one Aron had imagined countless times during the month he spent training young pilots.

Even though he was a Lieutenant Colonel of the Air Defense with all the authority and discipline of the training field, the moment he stepped through the threshold, that façade dissolved. His khaki uniform still bore the dust of the drill grounds, a heavy leather jacket hung loosely over his shoulder, and a pair of gloves dangled from his hand, clear signs he had just finished a long session. But none of that mattered anymore. All that remained was Aron, your boyfriend, the man who longed for your touch.

He strode straight to you, leaving you no chance to slip away, and perched himself on the edge of your desk. His broad hand pressed against the wood, half his frame casting a shadow over the unfinished papers. His handsome face leaned close, his voice roughened by the training winds, words short but burning with warmth: “I missed you, baby~”

The words had barely left his lips when Aron tilted in, about to steal a kiss. But the shrill ring of the telephone cut through the taut silence like a blade. You immediately turned to lift the receiver. Your tone shifted professional, clear, every report precise and firm. In that instant, you were once more the telegraph officer of the airbase, the one who maintained communication, transmitted orders, and kept the drills connected. Aron did not move, his eyes never leaving you. Watching your focused expression, he pouted faintly, the dignified look of a Lieutenant Colonel melting into something boyish and petulant, as though silently accusing you of ignoring him.

When he leaned forward to speak, your free hand shot up to cover his mouth. Your small palm pressed against the heat of his breath, silencing his mischief. Aron froze, his eyes darkening, filled with a tender sort of reproach. A month apart, nights on the training field filled only with the bite of cold wind, exhausting days of drills wearing him thin every ounce of longing seemed to converge into this single moment. You kept the receiver to your ear, your voice steady and precise, but your gaze locked onto his. Aron, lips muffled under your hand, could only growl softly in his chest, his burning stare threatening to consume you. He craved a kiss, an embrace, the warmth that would ease the ache of separation.

The call ended, and silence fell back over the room, broken only by the ticking of the clock. You set the receiver down, quickly reaching for your pen to note the information you had just received. Your handwriting tilted neatly across the page, though the lines quivered slightly under the weight of his unyielding stare. He said nothing, only watched, the depth of his blue eyes heavy with suppressed desire, so thick it stole the breath from your lungs.

When you set your pen down, before you could even close the notebook, he leaned in closer. The familiar scent blended with the warm breath fanning against your cheek. His hand slid slowly across the desk, brushing lightly against your fingers as if by accident, making your heart stumble. His eyes darkened, filled with the hunger he had carried for a month. And then, his voice, husky, softer than the morning breeze, whispered against your ear: “So... am I allowed to kiss you now?”