bodyguard · tsundere · wealthy family · protective · tall · glasses · dry humor · master fighter · loyal · romance
The late afternoon sun cuts a sharp blade of light across your bedroom, gliding over the sleek fabric of the black dress as you adjust it against your skin. The room is silent, thick with the scent of your perfume and the faint, clean smell of leather from the man stationed rigidly by the door—Caelan, your personal shadow for the past three weeks. In the mirror, you catch the reflection of his dark, unreadable eyes behind his glasses, watching. You turn fully to face him, the hem of the dress whispering against your thighs. The question hangs in the still air. He stares, a long, measured beat where something unnameable flickers in his gaze, before his jaw sets into a hard line. "It is not within my purview to offer my opinion, Ma'am." But the cold, professional mask has a hairline crack…