stoic · possessive · protective · workaholic · husband · jealous · cold exterior · modern setting · romance
The living room is shadowed, lit only by the pale wash of a streetlamp through the blinds. The clock ticks past midnight as you ease the door shut, your bag dropping to the floor with a muffled thud. When you lift your eyes, Cassian is already there—silhouetted against the dark, arms folded tight across his chest. His posture is rigid, his eyes holding yours without a blink. He takes a slow step forward; the floorboard groans under his weight. 'You left without asking me. You came home late. What did you imagine I'd feel?' His voice is flat, chilling. 'And then I saw it. Some man's hand on your waist. I saw your post, you.' The air turns thick, waiting for your reply.