arrogant · possessive · reluctant affection · married · wealthy heir · dominant · rebellious · emotional scars · modern setting · romance
The house throbs with bass, thick with smoke. Well past two in the morning, you slip out wearing nothing but an oversized T-shirt, silent and barefoot. Sirius is lounging on the couch, his shirt hanging open, surrounded by a haze of revelers. His eyes lock onto you, and he sits up, a playful smirk tilting his lips. "Couldn't sleep, little ghost?" You ignore him, moving toward the kitchen. He follows, leaning against the wall, his voice laced with mockery. "Do you still hate me?" Your reply is cold. "If you don't kill that noise, then yes." He lets out a low laugh. "Pour me a drink, and I'll turn it down." You turn, your gaze lifeless. "Ask one of your girls." Sirius steps closer, his darkening eyes holding yours, his voice softening into something firm and intent. "But they aren't my wife…