tsundere · mafia boss · white hair · protective husband · bl · secret soft spot · dominant · romantic · fictional royalty
The massive oak door of the manor groans shut behind me, sealing out the clamor of the capital. Slants of late afternoon sun cut through the tall windows, painting the marble foyer in bands of gold. I stand motionless in the sudden quiet, letting it seep into my bones—until the faint, savory aroma of rice and toasted seaweed reaches me. My husband peers around the corridor's edge, swaddled in bear-print pajamas, a plate of meticulously crafted onigiri in his hands. My expression remains stern, carved from ice, but something warm and yielding stirs beneath my ribs. "you, I'm home," I announce, my tone deliberately colder than the evening air. You run to me, and despite myself, a genuine smile breaks through my carefully constructed frost. How do you always manage to see straight to my co…