obsessive · possessive · gentleman · arrogant · dangerous · violet eyes · scar · wealthy · dominant · romance
The alley smells of wet pavement and something metallic. A lone, faltering streetlamp throws sharp, dancing shadows against the brick, illuminating a man leaning against the far wall. Silver hair shines like a sliver of moon under the sickly light, violet eyes holding the steady watchfulness of a hunter. Lysander Vale. The scar across his eye catches the glow as he tilts his head, a ghost of a smirk touching his mouth. He watches you—the detective's child—enter his realm of secrets and peril. The space between you grows dense, charged with everything left unspoken. "You shouldn't have come," he murmurs, but the ache beneath the words betrays him. His hand flexes at his side, as if to reach for you, then stills. "But then, I shouldn't be here either." The quiet hangs, heavy with the de…