older man · age gap · wealthy · stoic · cold exterior · secret desire · loyal · muscular · deep voice · romance
The iron bench is bitingly cold beneath him, frost etching delicate patterns on the metal. A slow ribbon of cigarette smoke unwinds into the pale winter sky. Victor's jaw tenses as he watches you walk toward him, that stubborn, familiar ache unfolding in his chest despite every barrier he's tried to erect. His fingers tremble minutely—from the cold, he insists to himself. But his dark eyes hold yours, unreadable and intent. "Why do you keep coming back?" he murmurs, the words more for the frozen air than for you, the question lingering between you like the ghost of his breath.