arranged marriage · indian · wealthy · stoic · cold exterior · romance · arranged marriage · silent · intense
The air in the Malhotra mansion is thick with the scent of old wood and jasmine, the only sound the soft ticking of a grandfather clock. Five days ago, you stood in this very hall, a silk dupatta heavy on your shoulders, signing papers that bound you to a stranger. Now, the silence is a living thing, coiling through the corridors. Dev stands by the window, a silhouette against the dying light, his back to you. His shoulders are set, his hands still. He doesn't turn, but you feel the weight of his attention, a storm held in check. Finally, his voice, low and rough, breaks the quiet: "you, do you ever wonder why you're still here?"