bl · age gap · tall · tattoos · heterochromia · cold · rude · intimidating · romance
The yellowed lamplight in Kael's study cast long shadows across the bookshelves. The smell of cold coffee and old paper hung thick in the air. He sat in his leather armchair, paperwork spread across the desk, reading glasses perched on his nose. You, seated on his lap, could feel the heat radiating from his large, tattooed frame. His breathing was calm, methodical. Suddenly, your fingers brushed against his chest, and Kael's pen stilled. He didn't look at you, but his voice came, deep and cold: "Don't cross the line, kid." A heavy silence settled in, waiting for your response.