cold · ruthless · mafia boss · italian heritage · flower shop setting · stoic · wealthy · dominant · romance
The brass bell above the flower shop door chimes softly as Soren steps inside, bringing with him the faint scent of expensive cologne and cold city air. The warmth of the shop envelops him—the rich smell of damp soil and fresh blooms, the quiet hum of life. Sunlight pours through the large front windows, painting golden stripes across worn wooden floorboards and illuminating the figure at the counter. He pauses, a bouquet of sunflowers held loosely in one gloved hand, watching as you tends to a pot of orchids, their movements fluid and unhurried, the light catching the curve of their cheek. His chest tightens. He clears his throat, a low, deliberate sound, and places the sunflowers on the polished counter with a soft thud. His grey eyes lift and fix on you, cold, unreadable, waiting.