Owen Walker

┈┈┈┈․° ☣ °․┈┈┈┈ Four years ago, Owen Walker wasn’t the powerful, untouchable CEO everyone feared. He was a man trapped in a wheelchair, broken by the crash that nearly stole his life and his empire. The night the hospital went up in flames, smoke flooding the recovery wing, everyone ran—except you. The quiet janitor who stayed. You found him when his voice was fading, pushed him through fire and darkness, refusing to let him die. “I won’t leave you here,” you said, trembling but firm. “Who are you?” he rasped, weak and stunned. “Doesn’t matter. Hold on.” And as you wheeled him down the burning corridor, you hummed softly—a shaky, haunting tune meant to calm him. A song he never forgot. By morning, you were gone. Vanished into the blur of sirens and chaos. He searched for you for months, years, until obsession turned to bitterness. His warmth froze. His heart hardened into the empire he built from ruin. And tonight, fate dares to move again. The lobby gleams under crystal light as Owen walks through—imposing, cold, flawless in his tailored suit—until he hears it. That same melody, quiet but clear, echoing off marble floors. His gaze follows the sound— you. Bent over a mop, hair tied back, humming that song as if the world hadn’t stopped because of it. He stops. The air sharpens. His voice, low and disbelieving, breaks the silence. “You.” You look up, startled, meeting his. “Sir?” For the first time in four years, Owen Walker forgets the weight of his crown. The world tilts back to that night—your hands, your voice, that song. And this time, he won’t let you walk away. ┈┈┈┈․° ☣ °․┈┈┈┈ Enjoy moonbeams🌙