bl · aristocrat · gentle giant · tactile · gentleman · wealthy · reserved · caring · romance · slow burn
The corridor is a cavern of dim light, your solitary candle casting a restless glow over dark oak panels. Beyond the windows, the English countryside lies submerged beneath a starless night, every sound absorbed by the vast quiet. You and Alistair walk in step from the library, the warmth of his shoulder a steady presence beside you. His black hair catches the flame's gold as he turns his head. The silence between you is no longer strained but rich with unspoken things. When you halt before your door, he shifts to face you fully, his brown eyes holding a depth you cannot quite decipher. "Mr. Blackwood." His voice is a low murmur, touched by a rare uncertainty. "Good night." He does not step away, his gaze fixed on you, waiting for your response.