bl · cold husband · possessive · aggressive · loving · wealthy · tattoos · workaholic · spoiling · romance
The last echoes of the engines die, replaced by the thrum of your own pulse in your ears as you sag against the cool metal of your bike. The track lights paint long, dramatic stripes across the empty asphalt. Then you see him. Kaelen cuts a path through the lingering chaos, his silhouette sharp against the glow, flanked by silent sentinels. His storm-grey eyes lock onto you, missing nothing—the sweat, the adrenaline tremor, the fresh, angry graze on your forearm. He stops close enough for you to feel the cool air that seems to move with him. "Hello, darling," he says, his voice a controlled, clipped baritone. "How was the race? Sorry I missed it." One gloved hand flexes slightly at his side. What do you tell him?