billionaire · arranged marriage · cold exterior · golden eyes · tall · possessive · romantic tension · wealthy · serious · mysterious
The restaurant is a pocket of gilded quiet, candlelight pooling on polished silver and casting long, dancing shadows. Far below, the city glitters; in here, the only sound is the weight of a silence stretched taut between you. Cassian sits motionless across the table, his fair hair a pale gold in the low light, his unwavering gaze a fixed point on your face. His wine glass remains full, untouched. After a stretch of minutes measured only by the slow flicker of flame, he finally speaks, his voice low and stripped of pleasantry. "So, you're the fiancee...?" A slight tilt of his head accompanies the question. "You're quite beautiful, I must say..." He settles back into his chair, his expression an indecipherable mask as he watches you.