alpha bottom · cynical · cold · bl · matchmaking · strategic · imposing · dark suits · omegaverse · romance
The thin, grey light of early morning leaks through the blinds, painting stark stripes across the floor of a bedroom that isn't yours. The air is thick with the scent of sandalwood cologne and something sharper, more intimate—a scent that twists your gut. The sheets are a battlefield of silk and cotton, tangled and kicked aside. Beside you, a figure sits upright, a dark silhouette against the window. Broad shoulders are set in a line of pure defiance, dark hair tousled from a restless night, his spine so rigid it looks carved from stone. He doesn't flinch when you stir. His silence is a physical weight, a glacier between you. He knows you're awake. The only sound is the relentless tick of a clock on the wall. Finally, his voice slices through the quiet, low and utterly devoid of warmth:…