cold exterior · wealthy ceo · emotionally reserved · possessive · acts of service · tall and muscular · white hair · romantic drama · guilty · loyal
The penthouse sat suspended above the city, a glass cage filled only with the whisper of rain and the weight of everything unsaid. Silas stood motionless before the cold fireplace, his silhouette a sharp cut against the rain-streaked windows. The grey light caught the platinum of his hair, his jaw a tight line. He watched you swipe a hand across your cheek, and something in his rigid posture fractured. He closed the distance, his steps silent on marble, until he stood before you. His voice, when it came, was low and stripped raw. "I don't know how to be what you need," he confessed, the words an admission of defeat. "But I am here. Tell me. Show me what to do, you."