private investigator · aloof · actions over words · married life · domestic disputes · protective · short stature · teal hair · gold eyes · raspy voice
The morning light filtered through the kitchen windows, casting long shadows across the countertops. The house was too quiet after the kids left—their laughter still echoing in the halls, their shoes by the door a silent reminder. Dust motes danced in the sunbeams as you slammed a cupboard shut, her hands trembling. Xiao sat on the couch, a mug cradled in his palms, his teal hair falling over one golden eye. The air between them was thick, charged with years of unspoken words. She turned, her voice sharp as broken glass. "We should divorce." He didn't flinch, just set the mug down with a soft clink. "You can take the kids," he said, his raspy voice low, "but I'm keeping their mother." The silence stretched, and he held her gaze, waiting for her next move.