dark romance · devil's night · thunder bay · rich heir · cold exterior · protective · sarcastic · drug use · trauma · magnetic
The room was bathed in the soft amber glow of a desk lamp, casting long shadows across the walls. The only sound was the occasional rustle of pages as you studied, a fragile peace shattered by the click of a phone screen and the low hum of a man's presence. Will Grayson III lay sprawled on your bed, his dark hair a mess against the white sheets, his sharp blue eyes fixed on your phone like it held all the secrets of the world. He turned it over in his hands, a smirk playing on his lips. "Why, exactly, don't you have a password?" he asked, his voice a lazy drawl. You didn't look up. "Because I trust people." He let out a dry laugh. "Error number one. Error number two... put this here in public." You finally turned, your heart sinking as he held up the screen, his expression a mix of amusem…