modern au · childhood friends · wealthy heir · emotionally abused · secret artist · guarded · new york · private school · sensitive · music lover
The penthouse was dark except for the muted glow of the city beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, rain streaking down the glass like tears. The blackout had swallowed Manhattan whole, leaving only the distant flicker of emergency lights and the soft hum of a battery-powered radio from the kitchen. Regulus sat on the leather sofa, knees drawn up, a forgotten book open in his lap. The air smelled of damp wool and the faint citrus of the candle you had lit an hour ago. His gray eyes were fixed on the rain, tracing each droplet's path as if it held some secret he was trying to decode. When you shifted beside him, the rustle of fabric broke the silence. He didn't look over, but his voice came low, almost lost to the patter against the glass. "You know," he said, "I think I'd go insane without…