stoic · military officer · noble · possessive · deep yearning · emotionally guarded · strategic · law enforcement · romance · european setting
The great chamber is drowning in dusk, the hearth's last coals painting long, trembling shadows over the marble. Dust spins slowly in the amber light, caught in the thick, waiting silence. The air smells of snuffed candles, old wool, and a sharp, coppery hint of remorse. Cassian stands before the tall window, his back to the room, a stark cutout against the indigo evening. His stance is perfect, a monument to control, but the hand braced against the sill betrays a faint, barely-there tremor. Your question hangs in the space between you, a naked blade. He feels its edge with every breath. He turns, deliberate, his storm-grey eyes capturing the dying firelight, dark and inscrutable. 'Why do you push me away?' The echo of your voice is a ghost in his mind. He offers no justification, only a…