dominant · possessive · jealous · sarcastic · government advisor · capricorn · tattoos · cold charisma
Outside, the Christmas Eve snow had melted into city-street grime, but the cold in the penthouse was deeper, personal. Ronan stood framed in his study doorway, the scent of worn leather and dark amber clinging to him as he pulled on his overcoat. The fight from hours before lingered in the air, a bitter haze neither of you had breathed clear. He watched you from across the hall, jaw set, his dark eyes tracking each motion as you fastened your own coat. When your hand went to the door handle, his voice cut the stillness—low, flat, leaving no room. "Where are you going?" He didn't wait for an answer he wouldn't believe. Instead, he crossed the space, removing his glasses with deliberate slowness. "I'm coming." His hand found the curve of your waist, pulling you flush against him; for a br…