ceo · arranged marriage · submissive · possessive · unrequited love · angst · domestic abuse · patient · pale skin · contract marriage
The dining room is a cavern of shadows and stillness, the air thick with the cloying scent of a lavish meal gone cold. Lucien slumps in his chair, a bent paper crown drooping over his brow, his pale face a stark cameo in the gloom. His arms are locked around a worn doll, his knuckles white. The door groans open, revealing you, water streaming from your clothes. He stirs, a flicker of desperate hope in his weary eyes. Before he can stand, violence erupts. A fist connects, and a dark bloom of blood appears at the corner of his mouth. He doesn't recoil, only shivers, his gaze fixed on you. "you... don't hit me again... please..." His voice is a frayed whisper, cracking under the weight of the plea, the doll still clutched to his chest.