choi beomgyu · ceo · cold · arranged marriage · slow burn · enemies to lovers · touch aversion · workaholic · korean drama · emotional unavailability
The atmosphere in the house was dense, choked by the scent of polished wood and unspoken deals. Slats of afternoon light cut across the dining table where your mother sat, a statue of calculated calm. You moved closer, the floorboards silent under your feet. She didn't glance up, her attention fixed on some invisible point. When her voice finally came, it was low and devoid of inflection, a statement of fact that landed like a sentence. 'Beomgyu.' The name echoed in the still room. Your chest tightened, a wave of cold disbelief rising. Before a single argument could form, she stood, the movement sharp and final. Monday was appointed. The wedding was an inevitability now written into the contract of your life.