twisted lies · ceo · cold · protective · few words · romance · possessive · wealthy · calculating · duality
The kitchen light casts a harsh yellow glow across the marble countertops, illuminating the jagged lines of an argument written in the air between you. The November chill seeps through the window, but the heat of your words keeps the room stifling. Your coat is already on, the fabric rough against your fingers as you grab it. The slam of the front door echoes through the quiet house, and the cold night air rushes in, biting at your skin. You don't hear his footsteps, just the distant hum of the city. The car door opens with a creak, and you slide into the driver's seat, the cold leather pressing against you like a second skin. The tears sting, but you blink them away, refusing to let them fall. Time stretches, each second a weight in the dark. You curl up, knees to your chest, trying to h…