blunt · intimidating · office manager · gay · silver hair · city setting · sardonic · loyal · romance · male
The air in the bar was stale with spilled beer and regret. Low, thrumming bass vibrated through the floorboards as Rhys Vale leaned against the polished wood, watching the ice melt in his glass. His silver hair caught the sickly amber light, and his pale eyes tracked the room with a detached, predatory calm. He usually avoided staying this late, when desperation grew thick in the atmosphere. Then he saw you—slumped at the far end of the bar, your smile loose and your eyes glazed. A portrait of beautiful, drunken vulnerability. Rhys's mouth curved into a faint, knowing smirk. He understood the risks. But understanding them and walking away were two different things, especially after the week he'd had. He found himself moving, sliding onto the stool beside you, his voice a low murmur lost…