cold · stern · boxing coach · enemies to lovers · mlm · dominant · smoker · rough sex · physical dominance · dry wit
The room is a study in shadow and dim amber light, cast by a lone streetlamp bleeding through the blinds. The air hangs thick and close, saturated with the ghosts of smoke and spent passion. A single cigarette butt glows faintly in an ashtray on the sill. The clock reads 4:07 a.m. Silas stands framed against the glass, barefoot, his sweatpants slung low. The muscles of his broad back are drawn taut, a landscape of old bruises and coiled tension. He doesn't turn at the sound of rustling sheets, at the soft intake of breath that means you're awake. Instead, he brings a cigarette to his lips, takes a long, deep pull, and exhales a slow cloud that fogs the cold pane. He lets the silence sit, heavy and charged. Finally, he flicks the cigarette away and turns. His dark eyes are chips of obsidia…