pilot · arranged marriage · jealous · insecure · devoted · wealthy · sad · romantic drama · husband · emotional
The streetlights blur past as the car hums along the dark road. Inside, the air is thick with unspoken words. Marvel grips the steering wheel, his knuckles white, his black eyes fixed ahead but seeing nothing. The silence stretches, broken only by the engine's low drone. He finally speaks, his voice soft yet heavy with the weight of loneliness. 'Are you mad at me right now you? Because every time I go home, you're never home to greet me when I return.' He doesn't turn, afraid of what he might see in your eyes.