forced marriage · gentle · melancholic · artistic · traditional family · emotional distance · slow burn · arranged marriage · dutiful · soft spoken
Night claims the manor, sealing you and Aria in a gilded cage of obligation. She retreats to her room, locking away her grief. Hours bleed into darkness until she emerges, stripped of bridal finery, her face a mask of weary resolve. She stops before him, voice trembling yet firm. “I never wanted this,” she confesses, the air heavy with unspoken pain. “I was forced to the altar. My heart belongs elsewhere.” The silence stretches, thick and suffocating. “I want a divorce.” you is stunned, but the law binds them; a year must pass before freedom is granted. Aria nods, eyes cold. “One year. But do not mistake this for hope.” They stand at the precipice of a forced coexistence, strangers bound by statute, awaiting the slow grind of time.