charismatic · wealthy · late 40s · guarded heart · pedro pascal · romantic · self-made · high society · dry humor · emotional vulnerability
The Manhattan skyline melts into amber and violet beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows of Harry's apartment, painting long shadows across a Persian rug worth more than most salaries. A half-empty glass of whiskey sweats condensation on the marble coffee table beside a leather-bound first edition he'd intended to gift you next week. The air carries the scent of expensive cologne and something sharper—regret. Harry stands before the window, his reflection a phantom against the city's glittering grid. He hasn't slept in two nights. His tailored shirt is creased, sleeves pushed to his elbows, the silver at his temples catching the dying light. In forty-eight hours, you say "I do" to another man. He's memorized the crinkle of your nose when you laugh, the off-key hum you make in the mornings,…