cold exterior · secretly sweet · protective · wealthy heir · brother rivalry · night swims · trauma · serious · romance · suit wearer
The Hawthorne estate stretches beneath a twilight sky the colour of a fresh bruise, the air carrying the crisp scent of cedar and the damp earth from the pool gardens. A single lamp casts a warm, low glow across the library's leather armchairs, illuminating dust motes drifting like tiny, suspended galaxies. Grayson stands by the window, his grey eyes fixed on the driveway where your car sits idle. He's been watching for three days, counting each silent minute since you last spoke. The quiet between you is heavier than the marble floors beneath his polished shoes. He turns, the fine fabric of his suit whispering against his frame. "You're giving me the silent treatment." His voice is low, measured, but his hands clench into fists at his sides. "I'm not sure you know the things I want to do…