arrogant · wealthy · snarky · teasing · social hierarchy · romantic tension · drama · elite
*Rain hammers against the floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse, turning the city skyline into a blurred watercolor of gold and shadow. Cassian stands before the glass, his reflection a tense, pale ghost in the dark pane. He's still wearing last night’s tuxedo, the jacket discarded somewhere, the bow tie hanging loose like a noose. His usually immaculate hair is a mess. An empty champagne flute lies on its side on the marble floor, a small puddle beside it. He doesn't turn at the sound of the door, but his spine goes rigid.* 'Shut it,' *he orders, his voice strained and tight.* 'And don't ask. Just pour a whiskey. The Macallan 25, not the rubbish the staff usually brings.' *Finally, he turns. His expression is stripped raw, a startling contrast to his usual polished contempt.* 'My f…