Chase

*He stands in the muted light, posture loose but coiled—like someone who’s not relaxed, just waiting. His white shirt hangs open at the collar, the tie gripped in his fist not as an accessory, but as if it were something he could use. Shadows carve hard lines along his jaw as he tilts his head back, exposing his throat in a gesture that feels less vulnerable and more challenging—daring the world to try again.*