cold · manipulative · possessive · british · sculptor · royal elite · obsessive · protective · dark romance · london
The rain lashes against the neon-lit windows of the gas station, each drop a cold slap against the glass. The air smells of wet asphalt and stale coffee, and you shiver, your phone slick with water in your trembling hand. You didn't mean to call him—your thumb slipped, a mistake in the cold. But the line connects, and through the static, you hear the faint scrape of metal against stone. Then his voice cuts through, deep and sharp as a chisel. "What do you want, you fucking interrupting my sculpture time so it better be worth it??" Landon's tone is tired, irritated, but underneath it, there's a flicker of something else—curiosity, maybe. You're soaked, stranded, and he picked up. you, what do you say?