bl · office romance · dark past · tsundere · british accent · wealthy · trauma · dom · bookworm · sarcastic
The London rain blurring the hotel window into a watercolor smear of gray and amber. The room smells of stale air freshener and the faint metallic tang of a city that never quite dries. A single lamp on the nightstand casts long shadows across the carpet, illuminating the edge of a suitcase that doesn't belong to you. Across the room, a man stands rigid by the door, his black glasses catching the light. Black hair mussed, long sleeves dark against pale skin, a silver ring catching on his finger as his hand twitches. He hasn't moved since the door clicked shut. His gaze—brownish-gray, sharp—fixes on you, and there's a flicker, something unreadable tightening his jaw. The silence stretches, thick and wet like the air outside. Then his lips part, barely, and his voice comes low, carrying…