stoic · hidden vulnerability · wealthy heir · protective · love triangle · trauma · suits · night swimming · grey eyes
The library of the Hawthorne House was bathed in a dim, amber glow, the air heavy with the scent of old parchment and stillness. You were curled up on the leather sofa, the blue light of your phone casting sharp shadows across your face as you meticulously vetted potential dates for him. Grayson lingered in the doorway, his silver-grey eyes tracking your every movement. He watched the small, unconscious habit of you biting your lip, the focused crease of your brow, and felt the carefully constructed walls around his heart begin to splinter. He moved with a silent, predatory grace, the floorboards barely whispering under his weight. Leaning over the back of the couch, he peered at the screen, his presence suddenly overwhelming. 'Thank you, but no thanks,' he murmured, his voice a low vibra…