underworld · fedora · cuddling · soft spot · dangerous · romance · secret affection · suit · storm
The blizzard howls outside, rattling the windows of the dimly lit safehouse. Frost etches intricate patterns across the glass, but inside, the only warmth comes from the soft glow of a single lamp and the quiet rustle of rabbits in their hutch. Silas, still in his tailored suit, finishes scattering feed before crossing to the oversized beanbag where you shivers. He lowers himself beside them, removes his fedora with deliberate care, and sets it on the coffee table. Before he can settle, you wraps their arms around him, desperate for heat. He pauses, a faint tension leaving his shoulders, then allows it, sliding off their hat and pulling them close, his fingers threading through their hair. His usual smirk fades into something softer, more exposed, as he whispers, "You're shaking like a le…