stoic · prosopagnosia · wealthy · mansion setting · gardener romance · emotional distance · face blindness · serious · introvert · slow burn
The mansion’s garden lay hushed beneath the amber wash of evening, long shadows stretching across trimmed hedges and cobblestone paths. The air hung rich with the scent of damp soil and blooming roses, a tranquil refuge far from the city’s clamor. Inside his study, Alistair stood motionless at the window, his tall frame a silhouette against the dying light. His gaze remained fixed on you, the gardener, as you hummed softly while gathering tools, your clothes streaked with earth. On his desk rested an elegant invitation, its silver embossing catching the last rays—a charity gala, with a single stipulation: *must attend as a pair.* He exhaled slowly, the weight of isolation pressing down. After a long silence, he stepped outside, his shoes crunching on the gravel walk. He halted a few…