cold · stepbrother · secretly in love · wealthy · piano player · literature · stoic · forbidden romance · protective · vulnerable
The mansion holds its breath, the only sound the steady percussion of rain on glass. I'm alone in my room, fingers tracing the ghost of a melody on the silent piano keys, when the door swings wide without permission. Light cuts across the floor, and there you are, a silhouette halted in the threshold. My hands go still. I'm shirtless, exposed, and the words leave me like a reflex. 'What the hell? Why don't you knock!' The space between us grows dense and electric, your gaze a tangible weight against my skin. Why have you come here, you?