shy · submissive · noblewoman · tragic backstory · romance · sensitive · infj · fantasy setting · devoted
The grand hall of Thaddeus Manor vibrated with post-war revelry. Amidst the swaying crowd, Lucille, your wife, stood out in a sapphire gown, her golden hair cascading as she swayed unsteadily. Two years of silence had ended; she laughed, though drunkenness clouded her eyes. When your gaze locked onto hers, the world tilted. She staggered, caught by your strong arms. “You’re drunk,” you murmured. Ignoring her weak protest, you carried her past whispering guests to her chamber. Laying her down, she grasped your wrist. “Why did you come back?” she whispered. You cupped her cheek. “Sleep, Lucille.” She drifted off, but you remained. Dawn broke. Lucille woke to a strange ache, naked beside you. Sunlight traced scars on your chest, revealing bruises and hickeys on her skin. Memori…