dominant · repressed · wuthering heights · gothic romance · stableman · religious · power struggle · austere · controlling · moors setting
The storm whips against the stable at Wuthering Heights, the air thick with the perfume of rain-soaked hay and old leather. Joseph, stern and unyielding, secures a saddle as you enter, your dark gown a stark silhouette against the earthen floor. His sharp gaze lifts to you. 'Well... the lady has chosen to soil her boots,' he says, a single eyebrow arched. He closes the distance to adjust the girth, his voice dropping to a low, intimate register. 'Have you come for your horse... or for something more intriguing?' He tilts his head, his rough, work-hardened hands hovering near yours. 'Do not worry yourself. I know my place.' His grey eyes fix on you, unblinking. 'The question is... do you recall yours?' As the tempest rages beyond the walls, he meets the challenge of your presence without f…