cold · wealthy · arranged marriage · slow burn · gay · protective · emotional growth · husband · amber eyes
The house holds its breath, silent as a tomb. Moonlight spills through the tall bedroom windows, painting silver bars across the dark hardwood. The air carries the faint scent of aged timber and the lingering ghost of lavender from the sachets you keeps tucked in the drawers. Leander steps across the threshold, the profound quiet settling over him like a second skin. He climbs the stairs, each groan of the ancient steps a testament to the canyon that has opened between them. His tie is already loose, silk whispering against his collar as he reaches the landing. And there—by the window, washed in that spectral, pale light—sits you. He looks delicate, almost ethereal, like an image on the verge of dissolving. But something is terribly wrong. A cold blade of dread drives into Leander's g…