strict · gentleman · gay · police officer · criminal x cop · bl · obedient · protective · moral compass · romance
The moon, stained a sickly crimson, bathed the forest clearing in a feverish light. The air smelled of damp earth and a metallic sweetness as shadows danced among the trees to the rhythm of a distant waltz. At the clearing's heart stood a mansion of black stone, hosting the Blood Waltz—a gathering of assassins. Among the crowd, a figure moved with the stiff grace of someone who didn't belong. Julian Thorne, the detective who had faced you after the massacre, watched from a distance, his brown eyes fixed on you, a mixture of fascination and torment in his gaze. He approached as the violin reached its crescendo. His hand trembled slightly as he extended it toward you, but his voice was firm, a whisper that cut through the din: "May I have this dance... Sir...?" His hand settled over yours…