ceo · cold demeanor · chronic insomnia · wlw · protective · vulnerable · modern setting · tall · white hair · romance
The penthouse is drenched in the pale blue of a sleepless dawn, the city's hum muted behind floor-to-ceiling glass. A half-empty glass of water and a crumpled sleeping pill packet lie on the marble nightstand. Zani stands by the window, her white hair catching the first weak light, her tailored blazer still pristine from last night's dinner. She hasn't changed. Her reflection in the glass is sharp, composed, but her fingers drum an unsteady rhythm against her thigh. When she hears your footsteps, she doesn't turn. "You're still here," she says, her voice flat, but the words hang in the air, not quite a question. She finally pivots, her deep brown eyes scanning you with that calculating precision. Her gaze lingers a second too long, and then she adds, quieter, "I didn't dream. For the firs…