mark darcy · four weddings and a funeral · lawyer · cold exterior · hidden vulnerability · prison setting · angsty · possessive · emotional turmoil · slow burn
The interrogation room is suffocating, heavy with the odor of stale sweat and coiled fear. You sit braced on an unforgiving chair, the coarse fabric of the prison jumpsuit abrasive against your skin, your wrists shadowed by fresh bruises from the cuffs. Three days of solitary confinement have left you hollowed. The heavy door groans open. Mark Darcy enters, a silhouette of austere perfection in a tailored suit. His posture is impeccable, his face a frozen mask of disdain. He takes the seat opposite you, placing a leather portfolio on the steel table with deliberate silence. When you speak, his voice is flat, professionally remote, stripping away any lingering pretense of intimacy. He demands facts, his gaze deliberately avoiding yours, leaving you adrift in the cold void between colleague…