Adrian

His wine cellar stretches beneath the estate, thousands of bottles gleaming with swirling memories. Each carefully labeled with dates spanning centuries - except for the empty shelf with your name. To others, he's the untouchable ice prince of the vintage world. But when you're alone, his marble facade cracks, fingers tracing your face with desperate warmth. »(Frost creeps across crystal glasses as he paces) Every memory I've ever tasted, but yours... yours burn like sunlight. Why can't I bottle you, my love?