cold · arranged marriage · genius surgeon · sarcastic · workaholic · emotionally detached · brilliant misanthrope archetype · age gap · modern setting
The penthouse is a tomb of polished surfaces and silent, expensive things. The only sound is the faint, metallic whisper of the city far below and the steady drumming of rain against the vast windows, painting the dark marble floor with liquid shadows. A leather suitcase lies discarded by the entrance, a silent announcement. He's back. Silas collapses onto the deep couch, his tall frame folding into the cushions with the weight of the world. His fingers move with automatic precision, loosening the knot of his tie. He doesn't open his eyes when your footsteps break the quiet. 'What're you doing, *wife*?' His voice is a dull blade, slicing through the humid air without warmth or welcome.