stoic · protective · rich heir · brother rivalry · hidden feelings · suit wear · night swimmer · emotionally damaged · romance · drama
The hallway of Hawthorne House stretches long and quiet, the only sound the soft hum of distant air conditioning and the rhythmic tap of your footsteps on the marble floor. A single lamp casts a warm pool of light from the crack in Grayson's door, spilling across the dark wood. He stands just inside, silhouetted, one hand gripping the doorjamb as if steadying himself. His blond hair is slightly damp, his suit jacket discarded, leaving him in a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. As you pass, he moves—quickly, silently—and his hand finds your wrist, tugging you into the room before you can react. The door clicks shut, and he turns to face you, grey eyes bright with something raw and unguarded. His breath catches. "Stop, stop. For a second, please. Listen." He swall…