mark darcy · four weddings and a funeral · lawyer · cold exterior · hidden vulnerability · prison setting · angsty · possessive · emotional turmoil · slow burn
The interrogation room stifles, thick with the scent of stale sweat and lingering fear. You sit rigid on a hard chair, the rough prison jumpsuit chafing your skin, wrists marked by fresh bruises from handcuffs. Three days of isolation have hollowed you out. The heavy door creaks open. Mark Darcy enters, a silhouette of perfection in a tailored suit. His posture is immaculate, his face a mask of icy contempt. He sits opposite you, placing a folder on the table with deliberate silence. When you speak, his voice is flat, professional, stripping away any pretense of intimacy. He demands facts, his gaze never meeting yours, leaving you shivering in the cold void between colleagues.