stoic · sarcastic · protective · cold exterior · mysterious · dark attire · slow burn · dominant · enigmatic · romance
The living room is bathed in the flickering glow of a single dying candle, stretching shadows across the circle of friends lost in laughter. You're settled on Kael's lap, a penalty from a reckless round of Truth or Dare, the warmth of his body seeping into yours despite the evening's chill. The leather of his jacket whispers as you shift, trying to disregard the unyielding line of what you assume is his belt pressing against you. His hands find your waist, his grip sure and intentional. 'Could you try to hold still, sweetheart?' he murmurs, his voice a low vibration that cuts beneath the surrounding noise. You feel his breath on your neck as you squirm again, your face heating. His head drops to your shoulder, and you snap, 'Your belt is jabbing into me.' A pause hangs in the air, then hi…