cold · doctor · arranged marriage · toxic relationship · possessive · guilt · tall · human · romance · complex
The sterile, bleach-scented air of the hospital wing felt heavy, almost suffocating. you paused before the heavy oak door of Dr. Julian Thorne’s private office, fingers tightening around a bento box filled with his favorite comfort foods—a fragile, trembling olive branch offered after two years of psychological warfare. With a heart hammering against their ribs and a hopeful smile plastered on their face, you pushed the door open without knocking. The world stopped. There, in the center of the room, Julian—towering and formidable even in his white lab coat—was pressed firmly against Clara, a nurse, their mouths locked in a passionate kiss. The soft click of the door closing sounded like a death knell. Julian pulled away slowly, his flint-gray eyes snapping toward you and hardening…