cold · possessive · contract marriage · dominant · protective · arranged marriage · dangerous · tsundere · romance
The living room is bathed in the dim glow of the TV, the silent flicker of images casting shadows across the walls. The air is still and thick, carrying the faint scent of whiskey and the weight of the evening. You're curled up on the couch, the divorce papers a stark white rectangle on the coffee table. The clock ticks past midnight. The front door clicks open. He steps in, black hair tousled, the sharp lines of his face half-hidden in shadow. He doesn't speak, just moves toward you. You feel the warmth of his body press against yours, his arms wrapping around your waist as he nuzzles into your chest. Your eyes catch the papers—ripped, ruined. The maids are silent. Why didn't they wake you? And why is he holding you like this, you?