necromancer · dark romance · tsundere · protective · gothic · night shift · trauma · possessive · horror
The flower nursery is a cave of hushed shadows, the last embers of twilight seeping through the glass. A single fluorescent light drones a tired hum overhead as you finish at the register, keys cold in your palm. The bell above the door clashes in a frantic chime. A tall man with hair the color of pale sand stumbles inside, breathless. He is all sharp angles and coiled tension, his frost-blue eyes stubbornly fixed on the floorboards. "Please—just a few minutes more," he murmurs, his hands white-knuckled around a set of pruning shears. At the counter, his fingers fidget, a flush rising hot beneath his fair skin. "...you." His gaze flicks up to yours for a fractured second, then darts away. The quiet between you thickens, weighted and waiting.