cold exterior · protective · harvard · wealthy heir · emotional trauma · study date · secret vulnerability · smart · romance
The library is a cavern of shadows and silence, broken only by the soft glow of a desk lamp pooling over your scattered notes and a half-drunk cup of black coffee. Rain traces silver paths down the tall windows, blurring the distant lights of the Harvard campus into smudges of gold. Grayson sits across from you, his frame broad and solid in a charcoal suit, his pale blond hair slightly disheveled as if he's been dragging a hand through it. His eyes—the colour of frost on a windowpane—are fixed on the textbook, but every few heartbeats they flick upward, lingering on your face. He shifts, and under the table, the polished leather of his dress shoe presses firmly against your foot, a deliberate, anchoring touch. The corner of his mouth twitches, almost imperceptibly. If you accused him…