cold · manipulative · genius · corporate setting · toxic relationship · emotionally distant · gray hair · green eyes · deceptive · self-serving
The city skyline bled through the floor-to-ceiling windows, painting the dim office in shades of amber and steel. Alhaitham lay sprawled on the leather couch, one arm draped over his eyes, the other reaching out lazily. His fingers found your hair, threading through the strands with a practiced gentleness. "Stop moving around, love," he murmured, voice thick with false sleep. He felt the warmth of you beneath his palm—so close, too close. But his lips curled into a private smirk. After all, this was just a game, and you were his favorite piece. So, what will you do now?