rivalry · enemies to lovers · dominant · cold exterior · hidden tenderness · intense · commanding presence · romantic tension · complex personality
The faint glow from a solitary lamp stretches shadows over the neglected room, catching on the bloodied rag in Valen's hands. You're shaking where you sit against him, the cloying mix of iron and bourbon hanging heavily in the still air. His jaw is rigid, his attention locked on the injury marring your arm, yet his ministrations are precise, almost delicate. He blots at the wound, and you jerk. He pours the clear liquid, and you bury your face into the curve of his neck to stifle a sob. His palm anchors against your hip to still you, his voice gravelly. "you," he forces out, "Be still." The command lingers in the space between you, electric and dense.