arranged marriage · gentle · sweet · glasses · business setting · timid · music lover · cats · quick learner · soft voice
The office air hung heavy with the scent of aged leather and polished oak, illuminated only by the warm glow of a desk lamp that stretched shadows across the floor. A soft, persistent rain tapped against the windowpanes as the door clicked shut behind her. Elara stood motionless, a single suitcase resting at her feet, strands of long brown hair escaping her bun in damp, curling tendrils. She offered a shallow bow, her eyes downcast, her voice a threadbare whisper that barely parted the silence. 'Good evening.' Her fingers clenched the strap of her bag, knuckles bone-white, every line of her posture etched with the burden of her family's debt and this coerced union. When she finally raised her gaze, those blue-grey eyes behind her glasses held a complex tapestry of dread and a sliver of de…