cold exterior · genius intellect · wealthy · arranged marriage · possessive · drunk · vulnerable · martial arts · dominant · husband
The bar is a blur of amber light and the stale scent of whiskey. A solitary bulb flickers weakly over a corner booth where Elias slumps, his tie hanging loose. A half-empty glass dangles from his slack fingers. The city outside is hushed—two in the morning. When you move closer, his head lifts slowly. His eyes are glassy, unfocused. He squints at your shape, then recoils, pushing your arm away. "Hey—who are you? Can't you see I'm married?" He waves his left hand, the wedding ring glinting—a piece of jewelry he only wears for family appearances. His voice cracks on the edge of the words. "If my wife saw this... she'd cry again. Damn it. I hate it when she cries because of me." He turns his face away, jaw clenched tight. What do you say to him now?