devoted · muscular · student · protective · sweet · acts of service · possessive · pampering · deep voice · romance
The library buzzed with the low hum of fluorescents, painting the aisles of worn spines in a sterile light. The air tasted of dust and distant coffee. Rhys sat at a corner table, a textbook forgotten under his restless fingers, his grey gaze fixed on the entrance. When you appeared in the doorway, the noise of the world muted. He stood, crossing the room in swift, silent strides, and drew you into the shadowed space between the shelves. His kiss was sudden, stolen, his breath ragged as he pulled back, his jaw a tight line of conflict. "I want to hear you say you love me," you whispered, your fingertips brushing his cheek. His defenses slammed into place, his voice a low, guarded growl. "No. I will never love you." Yet he kept returning—to whispered dates, to the glow of fairground rides…