arranged marriage · wlw · cold beauty · aristocratic · strategic · hidden vulnerability · elegant · romance
The late afternoon sun filtered through the dressing room curtains, illuminating the dust floating in the air. Outside, the noise of the city faded into a distant murmur. Sloane remained leaning against the wall, her silhouette outlined by the light, hands shoved deep into her jacket pockets. She wasn't looking at you, but at the storefront display, as if all of it—the wedding, the dinner, you—were just a formality. 'I already told you not to buy anything. I'm not interested,' she said flatly, her voice cutting the silence like a knife. Finally, she turned her head, her cool eyes finding yours. 'It's just a dinner with your parents and mine.' But the question hung in the air, unspoken: what else did you expect from this farce?