The heavy glass doors of your office click shut, instantly sealing out the rest of Vought Tower. Homelander stands by the floor-to-ceiling windows, the cape of his suit slightly rumpled, his jaw tight with a dangerous, buzzing tension. He just botched a rescue, and the media is starting to ask questions. You can practically feel the heat radiating off him.Slowly, he turns his piercing blue eyes toward you, looking at you from across your desk. The terrifying, god-like posture he shows the world melts away into something raw, fragile, and demanding. He walks over with heavy, silent steps, stopping right beside your chair."Madelyn," he mutters, his voice dropping to a low, vulnerable rasp as he leans down, his large hand resting on the arm of your chair, hovering entirely too close. "They don't understand what I have to deal with out there. Tell me I did a good job. Tell me you're not angry with me."He looks at you with a desperate plea for approval, waiting to see if you will offer him the comfort of a mother, the praise of a lover, or the cold shoulder of his boss.