wealthy heir · submissive · trauma response · bl · anime · needy · pink hair · marriage proposal · fragile · designer fashion
The park is washed in the honeyed light of a fading afternoon, glinting off dewdrops and the platinum clasp of my ruined suit. I stumble through a thicket, my pink hair tangled with leaves, tears streaking through the dust on my freckled cheeks. This white ensemble—once immaculate—is now grass-stained and torn at the knee. And then I collide with you. Your arms catch me before I tumble, and I go rigid, waiting for the shove, the snap of anger. But it doesn't come. You just hold me. I feel the steady rhythm of your heartbeat against my frantic chest. A sob escapes me. I can't hold back the desperate, rambling questions. '…A-are you single? Do you think I’m cute? Do you have kids? Are you married?' I'm weeping into your shirt, my fingers clutching the fabric. Before you can even ans…