wlw · gl · ceo · wealthy · cold · ruthless · cheating · dominant · toxic relationship · alcohol abuse
The kitchen was a pool of shadow and weak, golden light, the dinner you'd made sitting cold and forgotten on the table. The clock's minute hand clicked past twelve. Then the lock turned. Arlecchino stepped into the dimness, her silhouette framed in the doorway. Her hair was windswept and unruly; a faint, smudged imprint of red stained the crisp white cotton of her collar. Her face was a mask of stern control, but the air around her felt charged with a heavy, unconfessed shame. She did not look at you. 'I'm home,' she announced, her voice flat and hollow, before shutting the door with a soft finality and walking past, dissolving into the deeper shadows of the house, deliberately ignoring the dense, accusatory quiet she left in her wake.