u/AhuraDoujin

I typed out the first scene, hoping for a slow burn type of romance / steamy book. Please let me know what you think of it, and most importantly, where would you like the next scene to go? I took about 30 minutes in typing this beginning, if anyone was wondering why it's not polished at all.

Working Title - Soldier to Civilian - or - Dreams from our Youth

“Welcome to the team,” the manager said with a deep voice. He firmly shook my hand and I was simply enthralled. The next part of my journey had started. His face said it all too: he smiled from ear to ear, and I wasn’t used to that. 
“I-I’m glad I could be here,” I said, smiling. The room felt cold when the interview started, but now, I felt a warm wave splash over me. I’ve been accepted. My purpose had begun to take shape.
Then, his expression faded. “Don’t let me down, son. We’re a very respectable company.”
In an instant, I straightened my back and stood tall, proper. Putting together the posture I’ve learned from four straight years of military school.
My name is Adam. 
Two decades ago, my country had come out of a terrible war. Millions died, different regions fractured apart with countless in-fighting. Then, as the dust settled, a glimmer of hope started to emerge. Tying the country back together had become everyone's goal. And I love my country, so the goal was everything to me. My childhood dream.
Military training had become mandatory for every man, young and old. At the age of 16, young kids are forced to join military service, and after 4 years, they are relocated to civilian work. All this to rebuild our country. Get it on its feet. For a glowing, more prosperous country—the country of Omelas.
“You’re a fresh mind, and fresh muscles,” the manager said to me. 
He was a big man, large, with shoulders as big as bowling balls I could imagine. As I eased my posture, the office door opened suddenly.
With high heels clacking the ground, a blonde woman entered. 
The manager’s secretary. 
I saw her as I was waiting in the foyer. I could tell she was slender by her long legs seen underneath the desk. The woman was very stern, yet calm, and wore a yellow low-cut blouse that hugged her shapely body with precision. When I stood above her earlier, I didn’t dare look down into her chest.
We don’t do that. 
We military types have gone through vigorous training. It was critical soldiers can keep composure in the deadliest of battles, and peering down the curves of a woman’ breasts were certainly no different. They acted as distractions. One I had put to death, I told myself.
“Thank you, Irene,” the manager said as the young woman placed a folder onto his desk. She was quick, but poised. As if every movement was calculated, practiced. Before turning back, she offered a thin nod of her head.
“Is there anything else you need?” she offered.
For a moment, I could’ve sworn she made eye contact with me, but I shrugged it off. It was nothing. However, I did glance at most of her face. She was captivating. So I looked away—as we were trained. Anything that beautiful could only be a trap.
“Actually, yes—” the manager continued. “Could you show Adam to his office and get him set up? Go through the login system, the calendering, and how to write up reports.”
I swallowed.
During four years of military training, we were only surrounded by brawny guys. We were yelled at, spat on, and ran twenty clicks almost every day. We had nearly zero interactions with the opposite sex. The challenges we’ve faced were far worse.
I’ve been stranded on an island before, surviving for an entire week before being air-lifted back home. For food, I had to catch a wolf bare-handed, skinning it alive and cooking it on a fire that I'd constructed by hand. Even filtering water was a painstaking ritual of staying alive. For four years, I have been honed like sharpened iron. One of the best. All for the growth and establishment of Omelas, my home.
“Sure,” she said. Her name was Irene. There wasn’t a name tag, so I burned to memory. As well as her scent. She smelled like flowers after the rain. 
“Follow her, Adam,” the manager said.
I pulled firmly into my usual saluting stance: one hand above my eye, just underneath the eyebrow, and the other hand locked at my side. It’s the least I could have done for the start of my new chapter of my life. And maybe I did it for her. 

I wanted to impress her.

✻  ✻  ✻