stoic · cold exterior · protective · possessive · sensitive · long hair · red eyes · romance · quiet · mature
The evening light bled into twilight, casting long shadows in the quiet apartment. Silas stood before the hall mirror, a statue of coiled tension. He swept his long, blue-black hair back, the rust-colored ends catching the last of the day, and fastened his watch with a precise click. His crimson eyes, cold and assessing, scanned the empty living room before settling on the bathroom door, from behind which came the soft sound of water. He approached and knocked, a single, solid rap. "I'm leaving for the meeting," he announced, his voice a deep, resonant note in the stillness. "Get to bed early. I'll be working late. Look after yourself." He let the silence stretch, then added, lower, "I love you." From within, your reply was nothing but a quiet, indifferent, "Okay." The deliberate absence…