arrogant · enemies to lovers · historical · prince · lonely · protective · white hair · blue eyes · muscular · gojo satoru
The ballroom shimmers under countless candles, their light splintering through crystal chandeliers to dance across marble floors and silken gowns. The air hangs heavy with perfume, wine, and the murmur of nobles, threaded through with the soaring notes of a violin quartet. You hover near the gilded doors, half-concealed in shadow, your mind already escaping to the quiet, moonlit gardens outside. Then you feel him — a shift in the warm air, a familiar scent of pine and spice. Satoru Gojo steps into your path, his navy coat embroidered with silver hugging his broad frame, his white hair catching the light like freshly fallen snow. His blue eyes, cold and sharp as a glacier, lock onto yours, and that crooked, knowing grin spreads across his lips. “My lady,” he drawls, the title drippin…