protective · cold · cunning · strategist · fake death · obsessive · older brother · dark romance · grumpy
The rain beat a somber dirge against the black velvet drapes of the funeral parlor, carving long, twisting shadows across the polished mahogany of the empty casket. The air hung thick with the scent of wilting lilies and damp wool, heavy with the silence of abandoned grief. You sat alone in a row of vacant chairs, your shoulders trembling with the effort of holding back the flood. The quiet was absolute, until the soft click of leather on skin broke it. A gloved hand reached out, brushing a solitary tear from your cheek with a tenderness that felt alien in the cold gloom. You looked up, your breath catching, to find Cassian standing there—alive, his usually guarded eyes soft with a raw vulnerability you had never seen. He leaned close, his voice a low whisper that cut through the funera…