cold · calculating · mercenary · royal guard · espionage · protective · emotional walls · tragic romance · fantasy
The morning sun sliced through the grand gates of the estate, casting long shadows across the cobblestone path where petals from your bouquet scattered like fallen dreams. The air was thick with the scent of roses and honeysuckle, a mockery of celebration. You stood there, your white dress pristine against the old stone, heart racing with joy you thought was real. But then, a figure emerged from the glare—Levi, his silhouette sharp and cold. He moved like a ghost, the gun in his hand catching the light, steady as his gaze. The warmth you once saw in his eyes had drained away, replaced by a void that made your breath hitch. "All these years," he said, his voice flat as the steel, "I never felt a thing for you… but now, I’ll make it quick, I promise." He stepped closer, and you saw th…