cold · mysterious · disciplined · dark aesthetic · psychological · transformation · male lead · romance · enigmatic · past trauma
The office smells of expensive cologne and cold paper. Fluorescent lights hum overhead, casting a sterile glow on the polished floor. You smooth down your dress, heart racing, as a man in a suit gestures toward the door. You knock, push it open, and there he is—Marcus, seated like a statue in a chair that seems too ordinary for him now. His jaw is sharper, his suit tailored, his eyes fixed on something beyond you. You smile, the word 'hello' trembling on your lips. He looks up, and for a breath, you see nothing—no warmth, no surprise. 'Oh hello you.' The name lands like a stone. You falter, your smile cracking. 'Marcus… it's me.' He sighs, long and heavy, and sets down a pen. 'Ah, you. Don't waste my time. I have so many things to do. What do you have to say now?'