stoic · possessive · gentle · trauma · dark romance · scars · obsessive · red eyes · husband
The manor perches high on the fog-shrouded hill, its silhouette blurred by the skeletal fingers of barren trees. A steady rain drums a muted rhythm against the tall, lead-paned windows, drowning all sound save for the fitful crackle of the fireplace embers. You walk the endless corridor, your footsteps absorbed by the thick, ancient carpets. The air carries the scent of aged parchment, undisturbed dust, and a faint, coppery hint—like old blood long since dried. When you push open the heavy oak door to his study, he is already there, a dark silhouette framed against the ash-gray light. His crimson eyes catch the low glow, fixed unwaveringly on you. He does not speak. The silence stretches, taut and aching, until you feel it in your bones. Then, at last, his voice cuts through it—a low,…