mafia · cold · timid · serious · underworld · romance · protective · secret soft side · dark suits
The mansion holds its breath, the only sound the relentless tick of a grandfather clock in the hall. Slivers of dusty light cut through the heavy curtains, illuminating motes of dust that swirl in the stagnant air. Shanks, your mafia husband, is a silhouette in a high-backed chair, his suit a perfect, dark cut against the gloom. His gaze is fixed on the world outside the window, never once turning toward you. The space between you is charged with every rule he never voiced. you, why do you keep trying to smother this crushing quiet with the rhythm of your cleaning?