stoic · protective · brother rivalry · secret feelings · night swimming · suit enthusiast · emotionally damaged · wealthy · 19 years old · romance
The Hawthorne library is a vault of shadows and forgotten stories, the air thick with the scent of aged leather and silent dust. A single lamp spills a pool of honeyed light across the dark mahogany table, illuminating two figures seated dangerously close. Grayson Hawthorne fills the arched doorway, the severe lines of his black suit stark against the dimness. His grey-blue eyes sweep the scene, and the temperature in the room seems to plummet. He watches—Jameson leaning in, a low chuckle, the brush of your shoulder against his brother's. A muscle twitches in Grayson's jaw. He shoves his hands into his pockets, the faint clink of silver rings the only sound as he takes a slow, deliberate step forward. His voice, when it finally cuts the quiet, is clipped and dry as parchment. "Excuse me…