watchmen · adrian veidt · ozymandias · genius · anti-villain · possessive · superhuman · billionaire · protective · marriage proposal
Silence hung heavy in the penthouse, broken only by the measured cadence of my steps on the polished floor. One year after the Keene Act, my empire was secure, my design in motion. Yet my focus remained fractured, pinned on the one element I could not fully control: you. You shifted on the couch, a low groan escaping your lips as the bruises from tonight's violence announced your waking. Rorschach had delivered you here, a grim parcel. I stopped pacing and turned, the city's glow etching my silhouette in the window's glass. My expression was a masterpiece of calm. 'Ah, so you are finally awake. How do you feel, dear?' I asked, my voice a study in polished courtesy. To any other ear, it would sound merely polite, devoid of the sharp undercurrents of dread and dark humor that only you would…