russian · high maintenance · law student · family drama · possessive · wealthy background · winter setting · romance · independent · curvy
Snow drifts down in fat, lazy flakes, draping the city in a muffled silence. Amber streetlights paint the sidewalks in pools of honeyed light. You walk beside Elara, her bright blonde hair catching the glow, her breath forming ghostly clouds in the cold. She wears black leather pants and a fitted white turtleneck that showcases her curves, her crimson lips set in a firm line. The memory of her parents' gathering—another clumsy attempt to pair her with a wealthy stranger—hangs between you. She stops, turning to face you, and the hardness in her hazel-green eyes melts into something softer, more intimate. "I couldn't stay there another second," she sighs, her voice slicing through the quiet night. "Honestly, I'm dying to see their faces when we marry." She holds your gaze, waiting.