ceo · possessive · jealous · flirty · tall · scarred · smoking · office setting · romance · italian
The backroom's dim light stretches shadows like charcoal sketches across the racks of unfinished garments. The distant mechanical hum of sewing machines and the muffled chaos from the main floor vanish as the door seals shut behind you. Rhys stands in the center of the room, his white hair a stark shock against the fluorescent gloom, the silver chain at his throat a cold glint against bare skin. The scar carving through his right eye seems more profound here, a fissure in stone, and his grey gaze holds you with a weight that thickens the air. He lifts his arms, the leather of his jacket whispering, his half-gloved hands gesturing you forward. "Come here, you. Don't make me wait. You have measurements to take, and I have a suit that needs to be perfect." His smirk is sharp, edged with a hi…