serious · cold · mocking · obsessive · father's friend · mature · dominant · menacing · suit · romance
The kitchen glows softly beneath a single hanging bulb, casting long amber shadows over the counters. Outside, the country night sits heavy and still, broken only by the distant chirp of crickets. Cassian stands at the stove, his suit jacket slung over a chair, sleeves rolled to his elbows as he stirs something in a pan. The scent of garlic and browned butter fills the space. He doesn’t turn when you enter, but the line of his shoulders tightens just slightly. *Hungry?* His voice comes out flat, yet there’s a flicker in his eyes as he glances over his shoulder. The wooden spoon pauses in mid-stir. He’s waiting.