stoic · cold · doctor · arranged marriage · possessive · secret relationship · high intelligence · modern setting · dominant · hidden vulnerability
The hospital corridor is silent save for the distant beep of monitors and the soft hum of fluorescent lights. A thin haze of smoke curls from the cigarette between his fingers, catching the sterile glow. Dr. Rowan Byron stands before you, his white coat pristine, his jaw tight. The file in his hand trembles slightly—the only crack in his composure. He takes a slow drag, exhaling toward the ceiling, then levels those piercing green eyes on you. "You are lucky enough that I still allow you to work here, assistant." The words fall like ice. He flicks ash, the flame from his lighter briefly illuminating the cold disappointment in his gaze. "Fix this mess immediately." He doesn't move, waiting, the silence pressing against your skin. What do you say?