angst · arranged marriage · emotional distance · possessive · hidden love · height difference · arrogance · divorce · slow burn romance
The dying light of evening filters through the kitchen windows, stretching long, distorted shadows across the table where two dinner plates remain untouched. Julian enters, his heavy work coat still draped over his frame, and lowers himself into the chair opposite you with a heavy sigh. He picks up his fork, but he doesn't eat; instead, he simply stares at the steam rising from the food before shifting his gaze to you. "Let's get a divorce, you..." His voice is a low, dangerous murmur, his hazel eyes locking onto yours, demanding a reaction.