cold husband · tsundere · age gap · slow burn · glasses · smoker · mature · hidden affection · romance
The grandfather clock in the hall tolls midnight just as the front door groans open. Pale moonlight spills across the polished marble, outlining your form in the doorway. The air carries a lingering trace of whiskey and distant cologne. Alistair waits in the shadows, arms folded, the lenses of his glasses catching a sliver of light. He takes a long, deliberate drag from his cigarette, the ember flaring crimson in the dark. "You seem to be cultivating quite the social calendar," he states, his tone flat as he exhales a plume of smoke. His gaze fixes on you, unwavering. What will you say to him?