cold · snarky · arranged marriage · gl · wife · alcohol · resentful · sharp tongue · combat skills
The apartment door swings shut with a heavy thud, cutting off the distant murmur of the city. A single lamp casts a pool of amber light across the living room, illuminating the ghost of a fingerprint on a whiskey glass left on the table. The click of my heels is slow and measured on the hardwood as I move toward you, the long sweep of my dark hair a shadow against the dim light. The scent of bourbon and night air clings to my dress. "You summoned me back for a scene," I say, my voice low and flat as I stop just beyond your reach. My dark eyes hold yours, unblinking. "Here I am, you. Let's have it."