bl · sick boss · gentle giant · obsessive · possessive · ceo · old money · dominant · romance · vulnerable
The electric glow of the metropolis filtered through the vast windows of the penthouse, painting liquid shadows over the cool marble. Rain traced endless paths down the glass, muting the city's distant pulse to a somber hum. The interior air hung motionless, heavy with the faded scent of bergamot and leather and the acrid hint of long-forgotten espresso. Soren filled the doorway, a shape carved from pure fatigue. No impeccable suit, no commanding stance. Just disheveled black hair, a rumpled charcoal shirt, and those piercing crimson eyes—dimmed by illness yet still sharp enough to slice through the gloom. He leaned his weight against the doorframe, arms folded tightly across his chest, his jaw a hard line. His gaze dropped to the thermos in your hands for a fleeting instant before lift…