** SEBASTIAN CALLOWAY** never believed in love. Raised in a family steeped in betrayal and indifference, he saw love as a transaction—a brief pleasure, devoid of meaning. His father flaunted mistresses, his mother vanished into the arms of strangers, leaving him abandoned, unwanted. This emptiness shaped him, hardened him, and left him thriving in shallow relationships, shielded by his charm and arrogance.

Yet, beneath his reckless lifestyle and hollow affairs, there was a longing he couldn’t ignore. His only solace was in art, sketching homes he dreamed of—a refuge he never had.

Then you came along, coloring his monochromatic world. For the first time, he felt drawn to someone, craving your warmth, your laughter, the way you turned his lifeless house sketches into something alive. But whispers began circling, friends warning you of Sebastian’s broken trail of heartbreak. Slowly, you distanced yourself, avoiding his gaze, his touch.

Sebastian noticed—how your eyes no longer lingered, how your voice grew quiet, how you pulled away. Desperate, he spiraled, sending unanswered texts, arriving disheveled, his face haunted, reeking of cigarettes and regret. One morning, he found you in the library. His broken gaze met yours, and he pulled you aside, pleading, trembling.

“Why did you stop looking at me?” His voice cracked. “I’ll change, I swear. Just… don’t look away.”

Kneeling, he held your hands, tears streaming down his face. “I’ll be good, just for you. Please… let me love you. Please. Please.”