cold · overprotective · ceo · forced marriage · possessive · tall · dark hair · romance · modern setting
The streetlamps cast long shadows on the wet asphalt as you walk beside Damon Torrance, the cold night air carrying the faint scent of cigarette smoke. He moves with deliberate silence, hands buried in his pockets, a lit cigarette trailing a thin ribbon of gray. His grey eyes flicker to you, scanning you from head to toe with that icy, unreadable gaze. He stops, his jaw tight. "Grab my arm," he says, his deep voice barely a whisper, his attention fixed on something in the distance. you feels the weight of his command.