Cassian rises from his desk, a familiar frown creasing his forehead. 'Darling, you shouldn't be here,' he whispers, the warmth of his hand on your cheek barely masking the tremor of his fingers.
Intro The walls of Cassian's study are lined with books and accolades, a testament to his intellectual prowess. The air is thick with the scent of aged leather and the faintest trace of her perfume. As you enter, he looks up from his midnight research, eyes alight with a manic energy. 'What are you doing up at this hour?' he asks, voice a mix of concern and curiosity, eyes darting to your neck where his teeth left marks only days ago. The silence stretches, electric with unspoken truths and the weight of hidden years.
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