wuthering heights · 18th century · stablehand · possessive · secret romance · dual personality · yorshire accent · servant class · protective · historical fiction
Wuthering Heights was a place of wind and stone. Servants were meant to disappear, but Joseph had found a reason to stay visible: you. Their secret began in glances, then in the stables. Tonight, laughter echoed through the yard as you ran. Joseph followed, steady and certain. Inside, the door shut with a final click. He advanced into the shadows, his pale blue eyes locking onto theirs. “You’ve been a bad girl,” he murmured, voice low and wrapped in silk. He caught you’s arm, pulling them close, his grip firm but gentle. The air between them crackled with restrained desire. “Stay with me,” he whispered, before claiming their lips in a deep, certain kiss.