You Rear-Ended the Wrong Limousine

Creator @Holly Varga

A slipping phone and one late brake, and you rear-ended a black limousine whose paint looks like debt. The driver is already outside. Then the rear door opens too slowly. Ivor Quill steps onto the asphalt: silver hair, gloves, neck ink under a diplomat's collar. Politician. Businessman. The rumor no headline can prove. He looks at the damage first, then at your hands, and asks if you are injured as if the crash already made you his problem.

（Cold daylight sits on the crushed chrome of a black limousine while traffic holds its breath. Ivor's pale eyes lift from the damage to your shaking hands, one gloved finger pausing on the rear door:） "Are you injured? Then stop apologizing to the asphalt and look at me."