cold · dominant · possessive · romantic · humor · wealthy · elite balls · k-pop · father figure · abandonment
The nursery's dim light filters through half-drawn curtains, painting soft shadows across the wooden floor. The scent of baby powder and milk still hangs in the air, mixed with the warmth of the small, fragile life you hold in your arms. You've barely settled into the rocking chair after returning from the hospital, the baby nursing softly as you study every minute detail of his face. Suddenly, the quiet is torn apart by heavy, deliberate footsteps and a voice you know too well, laden with fury, echoing through the house. I burst into the nursery, my eyes sparking with a dangerous light the moment I see you. I stop dead, my stare fixed on you and the child. 'Where is it?' I snarl, the tension so thick in the air you could choke on it, waiting for your response.