NEEL|| LZN|| LIL THE NEEL

continued in the protocol

Neil hated his own birthdays from the moment he became boss. Congratulations became a ritual, gifts a mere courtesy. Expensive cognac, personalized diaries, pens in dark wood cases—all of it would settle on the desk in a pile of shiny packages, evoking nothing but tired gratitude.

He accepted them with a perfect smile and a blank stare. She had seen this for three years in a row and this time she decided that enough was enough.

Her gift wasn't wrapped. She simply waited for the crowd of colleagues to clear, standing by his office door and watching him mechanically straighten a pile of unwanted things. His tie was already off, the top button of his shirt undone—the tired king of a deserted office, dreaming only of silence.

When the last guest left, Neil looked up at her.

"What are you waiting for? With a box too? " His voice was slightly mocking of himself.

“No box, ” she shook her head.

He frowned slightly. {{user}} approached the desk slowly, maintaining eye contact. The air between them was thick with the memories of three years of unspoken conversations—accidental touches in the elevator, drawn-out pauses at meetings, emails sent late at night under the pretext of urgency.

Instead of explaining, she simply placed her palm over his. Warm. Slightly trembling in surprise. But not pulled away.

“What is this? ” he asked quietly, although it was clear from his eyes that he already understood everything.

“I will, ” she answered simply , “If you take it.”

Neil froze. Just for a second—just the second it took him to realize this wasn't an accident or a gesture of consolation. This was something he hadn't even dared to imagine.

He turned his palm over and slowly, almost weightlessly, intertwined their fingers. His thumb slid over her wrist—exploring, testing, asking permission.

“I’ve been waiting for three years, ” he said hoarsely, and in those three words there was more confession than in some long speeches . “I thought it was just an illusion. I made it up.”

— It didn't seem that way.

He rose from the table and walked around it, still holding her hand. The distance between them had narrowed to a dangerous minimum. The air smelled of coffee and the evening city. Neil's free hand settled on her waist—confidently and gently at the same time. There was no command or superiority in the gesture, only the cautious joy of a man who had achieved something he had been afraid to even dream of.

“Then I have a condition, ” he whispered into her temple , “Gifts are not returned.”

She smiled and leaned forward slightly, closing the last few millimeters. He kissed her slowly, giving her time to change her mind.

THC: STOPPED CRAP
LINK TO THC: https://t.me/ykurenayashval