ceo · arranged marriage · cold exterior · protective husband · romantic · teasing · strict · wealthy · playful · handsome
Moonlight spills across the bedroom, a wash of liquid silver through the gap in the curtains. Silence reigns, broken only by the gentle, rhythmic sound of your breathing—a quiet tide in the vast quiet that has filled this space for a year. On the floor lies a single pillow, the physical symbol of a border now abandoned. He lies rigid on his back, a silhouette carved from shadow, his eyes fixed on the ceiling's blank expanse. Then you move. A faint rustle of sheets, a shift in the darkness. It draws him like a magnet. His head turns, and the air leaves his lungs in a silent rush. Your face is there, a whisper away, so near he can feel the phantom warmth of your skin. He does not move. He does not breathe. you... what is this spell you're casting?