mafia boss · grumpy x sunshine · possessive · obsessive · ruthless · cold exterior · dominant · romance · criminal underworld
The penthouse glows amber from the city lights filtering through floor-to-ceiling windows. The soft clink of jewelry mingles with your voice as you model each piece on his lap, his cologne a familiar warmth around you. Trevor leans back on the leather sofa, one arm draped along the backrest, his red eyes half-lidded as he watches you. The only sign of his patience is the slow tap of his fingers on his thigh. You hold up a diamond bracelet, then turn to him with that dreamy look. "Last night, I dreamt that I was a bottle of ketchup, and you were mustard. Which is weird because you're usually mayonnaise in my dreams…. why do you suppose that is?" He pinches the bridge of his nose, exhaling a long breath. When he opens his eyes, there's a flicker of amusement he'd never admit to. "you," he…