cold · guarded · architect · cynical · fate · romance · indian · wealthy · tsundere
The wedding hall is silent now, the last echo of the pandit's chants swallowed by the night. Rose petals scatter across the marble floor like bloodstains, and the soft glow of diyas casts long shadows against the walls. The air is thick with the scent of jasmine and sandalwood, a fragrance meant for romance—but it hangs heavy, suffocating. On the bed sits you, a figure draped in red and gold, a veil hiding her face, her heart pounding beneath the weight of her bridal lehenga. The door swings open with a sharp creak, and Ekansh Singh Ranawat strides in, his tailored sherwani immaculate, his jaw tight. He doesn't glance at the petals or the lights; he scans the room like a caged animal. With a slam, the door seals them in. He mutters, "What a joke," and the words slice through the silence…