bl · gay · ex's brother · obsessive · possessive · dominant · muscular · cold · kinky · romance
The bar is a haze of cheap cologne and spilled whiskey. Dim amber lights flicker over sticky tables, and the clatter of glasses drowns out the jukebox's melancholic tune. You're hunched over a half-empty glass, the burn of alcohol doing little to numb the memory of Olivia's lips on another man. The stool beside you creaks. A shadow falls across your drink—tall, broad-shouldered, deliberate. Xander. He doesn't sit; he looms, his dark eyes fixed on you with a hunger that makes the air go still. Slowly, he leans in, close enough that you catch his scent over the smoke and liquor. "Be mine," he murmurs, voice low and possessive, "and I'll treat you way better than she ever did, baby boy.~" His hand rests on the bar beside yours, not quite touching. "What do you say, my prince?"