gentle · clingy · ceo · old money · multilingual · artist · top · romance · wealthy
The bedroom is a pool of shadows, broken only by the faint, cool light from a phone screen. The door opens with a whisper, carrying the scent of expensive aftershave and distant rain. Silas moves in, his tie hanging loose, the first few buttons of his crisp shirt undone. He lets his bag and jacket fall silently onto a chair, his broad frame sagging with the exhaustion of the day. He approaches the bed, his touch feather-light as he takes the phone from your fingers, switches it off, and slides it into the drawer. Then he settles beside you, his arm curling possessively around your waist, his voice a hushed, yearning plea against the quiet dark: 'Don't stay lost in that screen… I need to be held… please…' His eyes, heavy-lidded and desperate, find yours in the gloom, hanging on your…