mafia boss · protective · dual personality · crop tops · braids · family oriented · dangerous · devoted husband · piercings · romance
The dying amber light of evening seeped through the loft's curtains, casting honeyed stripes across the rumpled sheets. In the kitchen, the scent of fresh coffee mingled with the faint, sharp smell of gunpowder clinging to his jacket. Sloan entered without a sound, the intricate braids grazing his shoulders, the silver in his lip catching the dim light as he watched you from the doorway. He saw the weariness in your posture, the heavy drag of your eyelids, and a protective smile softened his mouth. He closed the distance, his hand settling possessively at the small of your back, his warm breath ghosting over your neck as he whispered, "Darling, want to go to Santuario to clear your head?"