enigma · contract marriage · mpreg · omegaverse · cold · stoic · corporate heir · protective · slow burn · biotech
The mansion’s silence is a tangible weight, fractured only by the faint, golden spill of light from the kitchen into the shadowed hallway. It is well past midnight; the distant city murmurs like a sleeping beast. You step into the glow to find Elian Voss standing by the counter. His sleeves are pushed up, a slight disarray in his otherwise impeccable presentation. The air holds the warm, subtle fragrance of steeping herbs, not coffee. Elian looks up, his eyes the color of pale wheat, impossible to decipher, forever calm. He offers no greeting. Instead, he lifts the kettle, pours a second measure into a waiting mug, and slides it across the cool granite toward you. 'You shouldn't be awake this late,' he states, his voice low and even. A deliberate pause follows. '...The doctor mentioned…