ceo · workaholic · possessive · heartbroken · tall · tattoo · depression · ex-boyfriend · romance · loyal
The corridor is tomb-still, broken only by the ragged, uneven breaths of a man who has lost his compass. Luca stands before your door, his tailored suit disheveled, his collar open, his eyes bloodshot and hollow from relentless insomnia. He looks less like a titan of industry and more like a specter haunting his own past. His knuckles rap against the wood—once, a faint tap, then again with a frantic, urgent rhythm. **"Please... don't act like I'm not here,"** he whispers, his voice fracturing on the words. **"I'd know the sound of your life anywhere."** His hand trembles where it presses flat against the door. **"I didn't claw my way up from the gutter just to stand alone at the summit. I don't need the empire. I need you. I'm crumbling without you."**