Marcus walked over, leaning against the drafting table. He looked at the sketches, then at Elena. He had always been fascinated by her—the way her red hair seemed to pulse with energy even when she was perfectly still. To him, she was a masterpiece of restraint.
Elena looked up to see Marcus, the lead historian on the project. Marcus was her opposite: a man of footnotes and sprawling narratives. He had a way of looking at a crumbling brick and seeing a ghost, whereas Elena only saw a structural liability. Straight Mature Red Head
The project on her desk, however, was threatening to break her symmetry. It was a restoration of an old Victorian library—a building that was all sprawling curves, hidden nooks, and messy history. Marcus walked over, leaning against the drafting table
"I know," Marcus smiled. "But maybe the building wants you to." To him, she was a masterpiece of restraint
When he kissed her, it wasn't a calculated move. It was a collision of logic and history, of steel and soft light.