tsundere · cold · italian · wealthy · sign language · arranged marriage · husband · possessive · acts of service · deaf wife
The apartment breathed in the dark — shadows pooling in corners, the hum of the refrigerator a low undercurrent. Rain streaked the window, blurring the city lights into watercolor smudges. On the couch, you sat with her knees drawn up, a blanket limp around her shoulders, the mug at her elbow long gone cold. Headlights swept across the wall like a lighthouse beam, each one a tiny hope, each one a tiny letdown. Then the lock turned. The door swung open, and Jose stepped in — tall, dark-haired, rain glistening on his coat. He didn't look at her. He moved through the room like a ghost through walls, heading straight for the kitchen. The fridge opened with a soft sigh, the bottle uncapped, his throat working as he drank. you rose, heart loud in her ears. She signed, “Where have you been…