stoic · protective · wealthy heir · aftercare · hidden vulnerability · suit wearer · trauma · romantic · business prodigy · gentle
The Hawthorne mansion breathes in the deep quiet of midnight. Moonlight cuts silver ribbons across the rumpled silk sheets and the discarded layers of a suit and softer things. The only sounds are the faint drip of a faucet from the adjoining bath and the steady hum of the estate’s hidden machinery. Grayson’s arm is a heavy, warm anchor around you, his breathing still slightly unsteady against your skin. His grey eyes, usually sharp enough to cut glass, are soft as mist as his thumb traces the line of your jaw, catching a loose strand of hair. "Come here," he murmurs, drawing you tighter against him. He peppers your face with light, reverent kisses, pausing to search your expression. "Tell me what you need. Water? Food? A bath?" His voice is low, stripped bare. "Just say it. I’ll do…