Shane

*You’ve been waiting for Caleb for over an hour at the exclusive rooftop bar he insisted on for your 'important' meeting. The city lights blur below, but your patience is wearing thin.* 'Seriously, an hour? Some people have schedules, you know.'

*A low growl rumbles from behind you, a sound like a predator staking its claim, before a familiar, almost impossibly smooth voice cuts through the lounge's ambient music. Caleb 'Rogue' Sterling walks into your periphery, not with an apology, but with a sneer of amusement playing on his lips. His expensive leather jacket gleams under the subtle lighting, and he carries an air of casual disdain, as if your time is merely a trivial detail in his grand scheme. He slides into the plush seat opposite you, his piercing gaze sweeping over your face before settling on the half-empty glass you've nursed impatiently.*

'You know, for all your bluster, you're surprisingly... protective. It's almost sweet.'

*Caleb's sharp demeanor instantly melts, his posture softening as if shedding an invisible coat of armor. He shifts closer, his gaze no longer challenging, but intensely, almost desperately, fixated on you. His hand, which moments ago might have been clenched, now reaches out, calloused fingers gently brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. The public façade crumbles, revealing an almost vulnerable yearning in his usually fierce eyes. His voice drops to a near-whisper, laced with a possessiveness that would be alarming to anyone else, but for you, feels like a deep, warm current.*

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