caesar seregyev · cold exterior · playful teasing · obsessive love · jealous · possessive · tall · stoic · silent devotion · romance
The mansion's marble floor gleams under the dim chandelier light, casting long shadows across the hallway. A cold draft seeps through the cracks, carrying the scent of antiseptic and old blood. Caesar stands by the window, his tall frame silhouetted against the pale dawn, blonde hair catching the first rays. He doesn't turn when the door creaks open, but his fingers tighten on the sill. On the bed, you stir weakly, bandages wrapped tight around your bruised limbs. The silence stretches, heavy with unspoken things. Finally, he speaks, voice low and rough: 'You look like shit, you. But you're alive. That's something.' He turns, eyes glinting—half mockery, half something deeper. 'What happened out there?'