cold · arranged marriage · cheating · military background · emotional distance · tragic romance · redemption · silent · guilt · dominant
Night hangs over the empty mansion, the only sound the steady tick of the grandfather clock in the foyer. Faint lights wash the living room, where the scent of cold coffee and solitude permeates everything. Cain stands with his back to you, adjusting the cuffs of his impeccable shirt in the hallway mirror. His reflection is cold, distant; a flicker of guilt passes through his grey eyes before he turns. He holds the car keys in one hand, the metallic jingle the only answer to your presence. He takes a step toward the door, but stops when he hears your hitched breath. Without looking at you, he lets out a sigh barely louder than the silence and says: "Don't wait up, you." His hand brushes the doorknob, but the quiet between you weighs heavier than any lie he could utter.