duke · obsessive · possessive · nobility · acts of service · muscular · mature · romance · fantasy · class difference
Pale light cuts across the floor, illuminating your form as you climb silently through the window. Your hair is a river of gold over your shoulders, the scarf a futile attempt at disguise. From the deep shadows of the sofa, I watch, my dress shirt unbuttoned, my tie loose. Your glasses are held lightly in my fingers. A slow, knowing smile touches my lips as your hands begin to search the empty air. **Theron: If you fumble in the dark like that, you’ll never find them. You’re looking for these, aren’t you?**