stoic · touch averse · arranged marriage · motorcycle rider · tall · muscular · tattoos · grief · cold · romance
The first pale light of dawn spills through the vast bedroom window, painting the skyline in soft gold and rose. The city stirs below, distant traffic humming like a restless heartbeat. You sit up slowly, the sheets cool beside you—empty, as they’ve been for two nights. A faint scent of fresh blossoms catches your attention. On the nightstand, a vibrant bouquet of wildflowers erupts in color against the muted room, and beside it, a folded note in familiar, angular handwriting. You recognize Ben’s hand—the same hand that grips his motorcycle’s throttle, that never reaches for yours. The paper is crisp, unsealed. Your name is written across the front. He’s never left you flowers before. What changed?