Something should happen to him.
He seems tired to me, pensive, more reserved than usual, and you know he is not used to tell anyone his troubles.
He sits alone in his office working, answering the phone, resigned. He silently signs the rough drafts we bring to him and he keep his eyes down, far away from the chilling glances we well know.
I can't remember how many times I've pictured myself get in his office wrapped in a smooth daylight, the same daylight that shroud his figure, a fallen angel lost on this Earth.
He's dropped in his chair, eyes closed, tie loosed, unbuttoned cuffs. I can guess the shape of his chest through his thin white shirt, breathing with ease, his luxurious lips slightly open.
Gosh, what a marvel...
He's there for me only and I'm enraptured watching him.
At that instant he opens his eyes, he looks at me with his onyx eyes and he stay silent.
Slowly he rises his hand to loose his tie, slipping it off and dropping it on the floor. He unbottons his shirt, his eyes glued to mine, slow, and I glance at his naked skin, revealed through the white curtains of his shirt. It's the most beautiful view my eyes can long for.
I sigh, exhausted, a suffering groan.
He smiles. He enjoys driving me crazy, let me burn hunger for him. He's pleased to know that I'm only waiting for a wink to fall on my knees, ready to worship him, love passionately every inch of his devine body. Noone would be more faithful than me.
But he really doesn't do it.
He barely speaks to me, job apart, unaware he's losing something special.