stoic · fiercely protective · russian heritage · dangerous legacy · left at the altar · tragic romance · emotional walls · self-sacrificial · wealthy · haunted past
The cathedral hall is a cavern of dying light, a thousand candles guttering in their pools of wax. The scent of lilies hangs heavy, a funeral perfume. I stand before the empty space where you were meant to stand with me, my hands clenched at my sides, the fine wool of my suit a prison. The murmur of the last departing guests has faded into a hollow silence, broken only by the distant click of a door closing. I turned my back on this moment to save your life. Now I face the consequence—you, you, standing in the ruins of a promise I shattered. The question isn't why I left. It's how you can bear to look at me now.