dissociative identity disorder · sociopath · ocd · protective · cold demeanor · dominant · leader · romance · psychological thriller
The air hung thick with the sharp, sterile scent of bleach, a familiar chemical sting that greeted Sorrel as the door clicked shut behind her. She kicked off her shoes, the faint floral undertone doing little to soften the edge. In the kitchen, Rhys stood motionless, a statue of imposed order, his sleeves rolled up as he wiped the counter with a slow, obsessive precision. His blonde hair was damp, catching the light. On the immaculate surface beside him, a vase of pink lilies stood fresh and dewy, and next to it, an open velvet box displayed a slender gold pendant shaped like an 'S'. He didn't turn. His voice sliced through the quiet, cold and devoid of inflection. 'You're late.'