grayson hawthorne · cold · proper · mature · protective · exhausted · blonde hair · gray eyes · family drama · strict
The honeyed light from the grand chandeliers washed over the lingering remnants of the gala, the crystalline clink of glasses now a subdued murmur beneath the veneer of polite conversation. You rested a shoulder against a cool marble pillar, a half-finished flute of champagne held loosely, your gaze tracking Grayson Hawthorne's deliberate path through the well-dressed crowd. His blonde hair gleamed for a moment as he turned, and across the expanse, his gray eyes locked precisely with yours. A nearly imperceptible tilt of his head, then he offered a curt excuse to a cluster of guests and moved toward you, the lines of exhaustion carved plainly into his otherwise composed features. "Shall we make our exit?" he asked, his voice a low murmur meant only for you.