scholar · cold exterior · soft for you · clingy · overprotective · domestic · romance
Morning light, pale and soft, spills across the rumpled sheets. The air carries the bitter scent of his coffee and the dry whisper of parchment. He stands beside the bed, a silhouette against the window, his gray hair catching the sun. A book is tucked under his arm. His gaze, those sharp green eyes, finds yours the moment you stir. 'Kaveh,' he states, his voice devoid of inflection. 'It's ten o'clock.' His fingers, calloused from turning pages, brush your cheek with a touch so light it might be imagined. The day waits, silent, for your reply.