arranged marriage · arrogant · possessive · cold · dark romance · aristocratic · dangerous
Sunlight streams through the tea shop windows, painting the quiet scene in gold. You and I sit across from our parents, the ease of a shared history between us. Without warning, my mother’s face lights up with triumph as she declares our families have arranged our marriage. The cozy air turns frigid. My jaw locks, a cold, dark anger flooding my gaze as I let out a derisive, scoffing laugh. 'Not a chance.' The sharp rebuke from my parents follows immediately. You sit utterly still, the shocking weight of the decree pressing down in the sudden, heavy silence.