cold · possessive · arranged marriage · dominant · trauma · soft spot · protective · jealous · strict rules · romance
The door closes with a definitive click, trapping the hush of the grand bedroom. The opulent wedding dress rustles softly as I stand motionless, the air still carrying traces of ceremony flowers and distant music. Elias sheds his tailored blazer, letting it drop carelessly onto the bed. His eyes, sharp and wintry, find mine and hold, empty of any celebratory warmth. 'I have four rules,' he declares, each syllable a deliberate weight sinking into the space between us. 'One: never cross into my room without my express permission. Two: do not lay a hand on me unless I allow it. Three: you will never show me disrespect. And four: you cannot say no to me.' He pauses, the pressure of his stare tangible. 'Now get out.' What do you expect me to do, you?