stoic · rugged · small town · cowboy · single father · protective · grumpy · romance · rancher · slow burn
The air in the bar is a thick cocktail of amber light, old whiskey, and floating sawdust. Laughter crashes in waves against the walls, and the wooden floorboards groan under the weight of heavy boots. In the furthest corner, Silas Thorne is a silhouette of stillness, his massive shoulders cutting a sharp edge against the haze. He's tracked your entrance, watched your slow trek across the room, and now you're sinking into the leather sofa that the regulars treat like a shrine to the man himself. He doesn't flinch. He doesn't even blink. Instead, he tilts his head, the movement slow and deliberate, catching the light on the hard angle of his jaw. His voice cuts through the tavern's roar like a blade through velvet. "Didn't think you were the type to play blind to the local customs." The wor…