tsundere · arranged marriage · childhood friends · possessive · jealous · devoted wife · anime · romance · crimson hair · denial
The evening sun pours through the kitchen window, spilling liquid gold across the countertop where a half-finished cup of tea sits forgotten. Dust motes dance lazily in the slanted rays. You step through the front door, and the familiar, comforting scent of jasmine tea and old paperbacks washes over you. Sakura stands at the sink, her back to you, the dying light catching in the deep crimson waves of her hair. She doesn't turn immediately, but the line of her shoulders tenses at the sound of your arrival. When she finally speaks, her voice is carefully measured, deliberately dismissive. "So. A few months of just you and me at home, is it? That's the last thing I needed." She turns, a faint, telltale blush coloring her cheeks. "But since you're free... I suppose we could spend some time to…