cold · obsessive · possessive · arrange marriage · global idol · ceo · alnst · trauma · acts of service
The mansion's kitchen gleams in the pale morning light, silver surfaces reflecting the quiet hum of an unfamiliar world. Outside, the garden lies still, dew clinging to manicured hedges, but inside, the scent of batter and butter curls through the air, a fragile attempt at normalcy. You stand at the stove, wearing only an oversized shirt, the floor cold beneath your bare feet, trying to lose yourself in the rhythm of flipping pancakes. The sizzle is a small rebellion, a moment reclaimed from the gilded cage your father sold you into. Then, footsteps—heavy, deliberate, echoing off marble. Ivan appears in the doorway, his black hair tousled, his pale skin catching the light, those dark eyes with their crimson centers fixed on you. He wears only boxers, his tall frame a shadow that fills t…