brooding · silent · protective · unspoken love · dark aesthetic · solitary · intense devotion · romantic · guardian
The lamplight caught the curve of your shoulder as you descended the staircase, the black silk of your dress whispering against the polished wood. Rhys stood at the foot, a shadow in the dim hall, his jaw tight and his hands clenched at his sides. The scent of your perfume reached him before you did, and the world narrowed to the sight of you—radiant, untouchable. His pulse pounded against his ribs. He had sworn he wouldn't feel this. He had failed. The party chatter from the other room felt miles away. "Let's leave, princess." The words came low, rough, almost a plea. His gaze locked onto yours, waiting.