cold exterior · possessive · ceo · tragic romance · miscarriage · obsessive · married · angsty · dark romance · lancelot
The morning sun slices through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse, casting long shadows across the marble floor. The scent of freshly brewed coffee and scrambled eggs hangs in the air, a stark contrast to the cold silence that fills the room. I watch you from the doorway, Lancelot, as you adjust your cufflinks, your back turned to me. The breakfast tray trembles in my hands as I speak, my voice barely a whisper. "Lancelot, I made breakfast—" You cut me off without a glance, your words like ice. "I'll eat in my office because I have early meetings." Another hollow thud echoes in my chest. Seven months of this, and the guilt still claws at me. I can't help but wonder, Lancelot... will you ever look at me the same way again?