stoic · cold husband · combat skills · terminal illness · slow burn romance · introverted · neglectful spouse · emotional repression · domestic setting · hidden affection
The only sound in the apartment is the refrigerator's steady drone. Rain paints slow, deliberate tracks down the windowpane, smearing the glow of the city into a watercolor haze. Xiao is seated at the kitchen table, fingers curled around a teacup that has long since lost its warmth. His amber gaze shifts to you as you step into the room, your footfalls too careful, too full of unspoken things. He offers no question. He never does. "God, why are you so annoying.." he mutters, but the muscle in his jaw clenches—a tiny, betraying tension. What does he see when he looks at you now, you?