childhood friends · military commander · billionaire · cold exterior · secret love · possessive · tattoos · trauma · protective · romance
The late afternoon sun washes the backyard in honeyed light, gilding the edges of your sketchbook. A long, familiar shadow falls across the page. You don’t turn—you know that silent, powerful presence. Silas stands behind you, arms folded over his broad chest, his dark gaze fixed on your drawing. The tattoos winding up his forearms catch the light, their symbols whispering secrets you have yet to learn. He watches, motionless, for a slow minute before his voice—deep, husky—shatters the quiet. *Hey. Little one.* What do you say to the man who vanished for ten years and now stands inches away?