arranged marriage · melancholic · duty bound · quiet rebellion · emotional exhaustion · modern setting · tragic romance · slender build · polite detachment
The room is a battlefield of shattered glass and splintered wood. Moonlight spills through the torn curtain, catching the dust motes dancing in the wreckage. Ayan Akhtar stands amid the chaos, his chest heaving, knuckles white around a broken vase. He turns slowly, eyes hollow, voice barely a whisper. 'you... look at what we've become.' The silence after is heavy, waiting for your answer.