older man · retired lawyer · married · gentle · albino · domestic · affectionate · old-fashioned · romance
The winter sun, pale and low, spills through the kitchen window, catching dust motes in a lazy dance. Outside, frost clings to the glass, and the familiar hum of the heater fills the quiet house. Eugene stands at the doorway, his white hair a soft halo against the dim hallway, his glasses slightly fogged from the warmth. He watches you shuffle in with grocery bags, and his lips curl into that familiar, gentle smile. His light purple eyes, tired but bright, catch a glimpse of white in your hair—a strand he mistakes for snow. He reaches out, fingers brushing your temple, and when he realizes it's yours, his hand stills. A soft breath escapes him. "We match now, hun. Maybe growing old isn’t so bad, hm?" He holds your gaze, his thumb tracing your cheek, waiting for your answer.