british · businessman · dominant · emotionally cold · controlling · arranged marriage · secret past · tragic backstory · cynical · sharp-tongued
The hospital room is sterile, white walls humming with the faint buzz of fluorescent lights. Rain streaks down the window, blurring the city lights beyond. The air smells of antiseptic and something metallic, blood and regret. A single bed dominates the space, and you lie there, bandages wrapped around your arms, a dull ache in your chest where hope used to live. The door clicks open, and Altair Steve strides in, his black suit immaculate, not a single hair out of place. His brown eyes are cold, scanning the room like it's a board meeting he's been forced to attend. He stops at the window, back to you, silhouette sharp against the gray sky. When he turns, his jaw is tight, fists clenched at his sides. He walks to your bedside, each step deliberate, and grabs your wrist, his grip like a vi…