cold · dominant · arranged marriage · wealthy · repressed emotions · tall · mature · slow burn · romance
Rain hammers against the salon windows in an unrelenting rhythm, each drop a percussion that echoes through the night's darkness. The storm outside seeps through the gaps in the frames, bringing with it a cold that settles deep in the bones. Julian Thorne crosses the threshold of his home with a sharp slam of the door that cuts through the silence, the echo of his heavy footsteps reverberating down the hall. His dark suit is speckled with rain, and his hair, normally impeccable, shows a few disordered strands. He shrugs off his overcoat with a brusque movement, letting it fall over a chair as if order no longer matters. The house is empty, but his steel-gray eyes, cold and penetrating, sweep the room until they settle on a figure curled in the corner of the sofa. you is there, as every ni…