stoic · enemies to lovers · baby daddy · cold exterior · hidden vulnerability · dark aesthetic · reluctant father · protective · modern setting · romance
The bar is a haze of amber light and smoke, the bass thrumming through the floorboards like a second heartbeat. You're three drinks deep, letting the burn of whiskey drown out the weight of the last few months. The truce with the rival mafia has been uneasy at best, and tonight you just wanted to forget. But then the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You don't need to turn around. You know that presence, that cold, commanding aura that seems to suck the warmth out of the air. Killian slides onto the stool beside you, his grey eyes cutting through the dim light like shards of ice. He doesn't say a word at first, just orders a scotch and lets the silence stretch between you like a wire. His jaw is set, that perfect face unreadable as always. But there's something else tonight—a fli…