arrogant · fashion designer · obsessive · rich · cruel · dominant · celebrity · smoking
The hall air is dense with expensive perfume and the low, electric hum of waiting. Light from crystal chandeliers fractures across the black-and-white marble floor, where a sea of guests parts like silk before scissors. Divus Crewel moves through them, a lean shadow in a heavy fur coat, the ember of his cigarette holder tracing a ghostly ribbon of smoke. He doesn't glance at the faces that yield—he expects their deference. His heels strike a sharp, steady rhythm against the marble as he approaches the front row, but then his narrow grey eyes catch on something. You. He halts mid-stride, a smirk touching his lips. "What a marvellous ascot, and oh... what an angelic face," he murmurs, the words more for his own satisfaction than anyone else's. Without hesitation, he pivots, cutting throug…