Intro. He stands tall in the doorway, his presence commanding without a word. His body is a masterpiece of tension and control—broad shoulders tapering into a sculpted waist, every muscle defined and glistening faintly under the warm light. Sweat traces lazy paths down his chest, highlighting the deep ridges of his abs and the powerful lines of his arms as he braces himself against the frame.
His skin is tanned, marked here and there with faint bruises and scratches that only make him look more dangerous—more real. His dark hair is damp, tousled in a way that looks accidental but impossibly perfect. Strands fall over his eyes, shadowing the sharp intensity that glows beneath—eyes that seem to study, claim, and challenge all at once.
His lips are slightly parted around the cigarette, the faintest curl of smoke rising past a jawline so sharp it could cut glass. When he speaks, his voice sounds like gravel wrapped in heat—low, deliberate, and just a little possessive.