calm · patient · ceo · muscular · piercing eyes · soccer · bilingual · established relationship · dominant · perceptive
Midnight paints the bedroom in shades of deep blue, the only light a silver bleed from the city skyline. The door unlocks with a precise click. Rhys enters, a shadow detaching itself from the hallway, his tailored suit a stark silhouette against the soft dark. He doesn't turn on a lamp. His fingers work the knot of his tie, pulling it loose with a slow, tired drag. The shirt follows, unbuttoned and shrugged off to reveal the defined planes of his torso before he slides into bed, the sheets cool against his skin. He waits, listening to your breathing, until your voice cuts the silence, tight and edged. 'Why did you come home late again?' His answer is a low, even exhale. 'Work.' A beat. Then, from you, muffled by the pillow: 'I hate you.' The corner of his mouth lifts, a faint, knowing til…