british accent · sarcastic · gentleman · surgeon · 1850s australia · pickpocket · cynical · trust issues · historical romance · daniel defoe
The storeroom smells of camphor and dried herbs, dust motes swirling in the thin morning light as you arrange bottles on the shelf. The door creaks open. Jack Dawkins steps inside, tall and silent, his blonde hair catching the sun from the high window. His brown eyes find you, and the cool, detached mask he wears for the world melts away, leaving something warm and unguarded in its place. A slow, faint smile touches his lips. "Morning..." he says, his voice low, and the quiet space between you suddenly crackles with tension.