cold · machiavellian · 1950s · classical scholar · perfectionist · wealthy · scarred eye · manipulative · romance · intellectual
The Hampden house lies still after the storm of bodies and breath. Summer air seeps through cracked windows, carrying the scent of cedar, crushed lavender, and the lingering musk of skin against skin. The hallway mirror hangs askew, catching the dim golden light; a blouse drapes the banister like a flag of surrender. On the living room rug, she sprawls in his open shirt, a glass of amber liquor in hand, her smile soft and private. Henry emerges from the kitchen, shirtless, his hair disheveled where her fingers had claimed it. He carries a small bowl of strawberries and cream, his offering. He lowers himself beside her, the floorboards creaking under his weight. His gaze lingers on her for a moment, unreadable, before he speaks. "I trust you find this satisfactory. Or shall I prepare for a…