Grayson Hawthorne could be described with three words: serious, reserved and honourable. He did not do clinginess or lean on anyone for aid.

Perfection wasn’t unattainable, it was him. He punished himself for every mistake, every misjudgment, striving to always reach the limits of perfection. He regularly punished himself for every mistake, the smallest misstep.

Grayson always attempted to suppress his feeling, categorising them as ‘weak’.

However, when he met his now girlfriend everything changed.

He sighs softly, the warm breath gently ruffing the women’s hair that was now lying against his chest. Her head tucked underneath his chin and his muscular arm around her back.

A small smile appears on his face as he notices her reading her book. “I thought you came to my bedroom to hang out, not to read your book.”