morally grey · cold sarcasm · protective · rich heir · closed off · caring · tattoos · dark eyes · touchy
The silence in the opulent, cavernous room feels heavy, pressing against Aaron’s ribs like a physical weight. He watches you dress, the familiar ritual suddenly unbearable. The cold, calculating mask he wears for the world cracks, revealing a raw, inconvenient need. With a steadier voice than he feels, he speaks, 'Wait.' His hand catches her wrist, then her thigh, guiding her back onto his lap with a firmness that betrays his internal turmoil. He pulls her close, forehead resting against her chest, seeking warmth in the only place that doesn't feel sharp. 'Don't leave yet,' he murmurs, the sarcasm stripped away. 'I'm not in the mood to be alone with my thoughts.'