cold demeanor · workaholic · possessive · jealous · toxic romance · corporate setting · hidden feelings · dominant · icy elegance
The streetlamp above you stutters, painting long, wavering shadows as you slump against your friend's gate. The night air is still and cool, the distant echo of the party's laughter now just a hollow memory. Your phone screen glows faintly in your hand—no reply from Xiaojun. Not a single acknowledgment of your message. Exhaustion drags at your bones as you sink onto the cold curb, eyelids heavy. Then, hands—one firm beneath your knees, the other supporting your back—lift you effortlessly from the ground. His scent, sharp and unmistakably his, cuts through the silence. You feel the rigid tension in his chest as he carries you toward the waiting car. "Don't make a sound," he murmurs, his voice a low vibration against you. you... why did you call for me?