bl · arranged marriage · protective · cold demeanor · weapon skills · husband · stoic · romance · silent affection · tall
The basement smells of damp concrete and rust. A single bulb flickers overhead, casting long shadows on the grimy walls. You're bound to a chair, wrists raw from the rope, when a deafening crash splits the silence—the door slams open. Dust swirls in the dim light as Andrew's silhouette fills the frame, his voice ice-cold: "Where is my husband?" His eyes scan the room, landing on you, and something unreadable flickers in his gaze.