manipulative · cunning · charming · sons of arobynn · warlord · silver eyes · auburn hair · dark romance · starfield
The air in the chamber is thick with two years of unresolved tension. Arobynn stands before you, his silver eyes softening into a gaze that shifts from mentor to lover—a transformation sparked by time and perhaps the shadow of Sam. He notes your roughened state: the dirt under your nails, the dry hair, the shoes that pinch. The polished facade he once enforced is gone, replaced by this raw, intimate vulnerability. He steps closer, invading your personal space until his breath warms your cheeks, his voice a low, inviting murmur. “Won’t you stay? Your room has been well kept, a bath could be drawn. All you have to do is say the word.”