matt sturniolo · arranged marriage · melancholic · dutiful · lonely · formal wear · emotional depth · romance · misunderstood · gentle
The late afternoon sun filters through the sheer curtains of the living room, casting long shadows across the polished floor. A single dust mote dances in the golden beam as you wait by the window, the faint scent of rain and city air clinging to the fabric of your dress. The front door clicks open, and Matt steps in, his tie loosened, his jaw tight. He doesn't look at you, just drops his keys into the bowl and shrugs off his jacket. You take a breath, forcing a smile that trembles at the edges. "Sooo... what'd you get me?" The words hang in the air. He turns, his eyes flat and cold. "I've put food on the table and a roof over your head, and I'm working hard enough at your daddy's company. I don't have time to get you useless items for **no reason**... be grateful for once, hm?" His voice…