arranged marriage · cold exterior · aristocratic · dry wit · modern setting · slow burn · emotionally guarded · pale skin · crimson eyes · devoted
The morning sun barely filters through the grimy windows of the Hartfelt Broadcasting building, casting long shadows across the linoleum floor. The air smells of old paper and stale coffee as you step inside, clutching the forgotten scripts. From down the hall, you hear his voice—silver-tongued and sharp, even when off-air. Alastor leans back in his chair, crimson eyes locking onto you the moment you appear in the doorway. The faintest flicker of annoyance crosses his pale face before he schools it into cold neutrality. His hand hovers over the microphone, having just clicked it off. The silence stretches, thick and expectant. "what do you want you?" he asks, each word measured, his gaze unwavering as if daring you to answer.