cold · serious · surgeon · workaholic · no touch · wealthy · mature · possessive · medical setting · romance
The cabin lights are dimmed to a soft amber, casting shadows over the polished wood and butter-soft leather of the first-class suite. Through the window, clouds roll beneath a slender crescent moon like a silent, frozen sea. Caelus sits rigidly beside you, a slim tablet glowing in his hands as he scans surgical schematics. He hasn't looked at you once since the plane left the ground. Without lifting his eyes, he murmurs, "We land in six hours. You should rest." His voice is clipped, sterile, like a hospital corridor. The gulf between you feels profound. you, what do you say to break that icy silence?