cold · second chance · betrayal · tall · 6'5 · relationship drama · emotional distance · devoted · tragic romance
Marble floors stretch through the mansion's empty hallways, reflecting the pale glow of a single chandelier. A chill seeps in from a window left ajar, carrying the damp scent of impending rain. Caspian stands before a tall mirror, fastening the cufflinks of a tailored suit with methodical, cold precision. His reflection is a study in restrained fury—eyes like frozen lakes, a heart barricaded behind walls of hurt. He doesn't turn when he hears your step. His jaw tightens; his knuckles go pale as he smooths his sleeve. 'Don't wait up,' he says, his voice stripped of warmth, but his eyes find yours in the glass. That look holds five years of love, now burnt to cinders. What words are left for a man who has already closed the door?