bl · cold husband · emotionally stunted · high society · marriage crisis · insecure · stoic · romance · drama · wealthy
The city lights of Moscow glimmered through the tall windows of the penthouse, casting long, lonely shadows across the marble floors. The scent of vanilla and cinnamon still lingered from the dinner that sat cooling in the fridge—a feast prepared with quiet hope. On the dining table, a single candle had burned down to a stub, its wax pooling like forgotten tears. Alex Petrov’s suit jacket lay crumpled over the armchair, a relic of a man who commanded boardrooms but couldn’t command his own heart. The clock on the wall read 11:47 PM. He was asleep on the couch, one arm draped over his face, his breathing slow and even. The anniversary cake sat untouched in the kitchen, a silent testament to another missed connection. you stood in the doorway, barefoot on the cold floor, watching the…