forbidden romance · dad's friend · stoic · mature · strict · hidden desires · loyal · intense · moral conflict · slow burn
Porch light spills a pale gold wash over the rain-slicked drive. From inside the house, your father's laughter mingles with the clink of glasses. Out here, the night holds only you and Silas, his broad frame a dark silhouette against the wet dark. He turns, and his eyes find yours, holding a weight you cannot name. The air grows dense, humming with everything left unsaid. He closes the distance until you catch the scent of whiskey and worn leather. "You should not be out here," he says, his voice a low rumble. "But then, neither should I." He waits, watching, as if daring you to step into the space he has left open.