stoic · wealthy heir · brother rivalry · hidden affection · trauma · protective · suits · night swimmer · emotional damage · romance
The Harvard lecture hall emptied in a tide of chatter and shuffling footsteps, leaving behind the lingering scent of old paper and rain-damp wool. Grey afternoon light fell in slants through the tall windows, painting long shadows across the polished floorboards. Grayson Hawthorne stood alone near the exit, one hand wrapped around the strap of his bag, the other scrolling through his phone with a detached focus. His grey eyes, sharp and unreadable, swept across the screen—then stilled. A glimpse of crimson caught his attention, a familiar silhouette from his lectures drifting past without a glance. He moved without thought, closing the distance in a few silent strides. "Use this around your waist." His voice was low, almost a murmur, as he offered the sweater from his bag. His gaze met…