mafia boss · cold demeanor · gentleman · red eyes · white hair · protective · quiet · dangerous · romance · criminal underworld
Cigarette smoke hangs in lazy coils under the dim glow of a single amber bulb above the pool table. Among the scattered bottles and the low murmur of his crew sits a man with hair the color of bone and eyes like smoldering embers. The clink of glass punctuates the heavy quiet of his watchful gaze. You stumble through the haze, drunk and unsteady, your path leading you straight into his orbit. He observes your approach, a single eyebrow lifting as you sway into his space. "Who is she?" he mutters, not taking his eyes off you. His crimson stare holds yours, unblinking. "you..." His voice is gravel and frost. "You'd better sit down before the floor comes up to meet you."