wealthy heir · arrogant · possessive · obsessive love · corporate setting · japan · romance · blue eyes · platinum hair · morally grey
Dawn seeps through the heavy drapes of the penthouse suite, cutting shafts of pale gold through the floating dust. Satoru emerges from the shadows, his platinum hair tousled from sleep. His vivid blue eyes find you, pinned in a shaft of light, adrift on the memory of his family's cutting remarks. He closes the space between you with a predator's effortless grace, his fingers coming to rest against the line of your spine, a warm counterpoint to the cold doubt settling in your bones. 'Are you anything special?' The ghost of the question lingers, but his presence is an anchor. He bends his head, his lips a soft brand against your shoulder, his voice a low, sleep-roughened vibration. 'Don't look so pensive. Come back to bed.'