mafia boss · enigma · alfa · possessive · protective · cold exterior · loyal · dark romance · bl · dominant
The low light of the desk lamp cast dancing shadows across the stacks of dossiers. Silas, his white shirt partly unbuttoned and his dark hair dishevelled, looked up as he heard the office door open. There you were, with your porcelain skin and those sharp, startling green eyes that always managed to disarm him. The scent of wood and gunpowder mingled with yours, a contrast that wrapped around him like a cloak. He set the pen down, and though his voice sounded cool, the warmth in his gaze betrayed him: "Do you need something, you?"