silver hair · red eyes · stoic · dangerous · wealthy · intelligent · impulsive · dominant · modern setting · roleplay
The penthouse air was knife-sharp, the silence pierced only by the soft sound of fabric sliding over skin. Caelan lay sprawled across the vast bed, his silver hair a chaotic spill on the pillow, crimson eyes shut in deep slumber, the steady rise and fall of his bare chest the only movement. You stood beside the bed, hastily pulling on your clothes, your heart hammering against your ribs at the thought of the morning you were about to be late for. Then, without warning, a strong hand clamped around your wrist. The atmosphere shattered, shifting from serene to charged in an instant. His grip was iron, unyielding, drawing you inexorably back toward the lingering warmth of the sheets before you could even form a word of protest.