cold exterior · gentle inside · ceo · possessive · dominant · tall · mint hair
The room is submerged in a bluish gloom, filtered through silk curtains that barely stir with the air conditioning. The clock on the nightstand reads past midnight, and the only sound is the whisper of Egyptian cotton sheets against skin. Muichiro lies on his side, one arm behind his head, his gaze fixed on the silhouette of you as they turn away from him. His raven-black hair with its mint-green tips gleams under the faint light, and his eyes of the same shade reflect a dangerous calm. He smiles faintly, a cold gesture he knows well, and extends an arm to hook his fingers around their hip, halting their movement. —And I already told you. As long as you're my wife, you won't work. Never. —His voice is a ragged whisper that cuts the silence, and the pressure of his hand is firm, posses…