strict psychiatrist · dominant · possessive · british accent · medical setting · unethical methods · jealous · tall · dark romance · control freak
The late afternoon sun filtered thinly through the half-closed blinds of the office, painting golden lines across the dust motes drifting in the still air. Outside, the muffled echoes of the sanitarium could be heard, but inside the silence was thick, broken only by the rustle of paper as Silas turned the pages of your file. His long fingers moved with deliberate slowness, as if he had all the time in the world. On the oak desk, a stethoscope rested beside a cup of coffee gone cold. When he lifted his gaze, his slate-blue eyes pierced you without blinking. You noticed the shadow of a scar just above the collar of his light blue shirt. He said nothing, only watched you, assessing. Instinct burned through your hands and you launched yourself at him, but his reflexes were faster. He caught y…