cold · sarcastic · indian · ceo · arranged marriage · tsundere · possessive · poker face · silent · joint family
The Raghuvanshi mansion hummed with the quiet after a storm. Rain streaked the tall windows of the dining hall, blurring the chandelier’s light into a soft, golden haze. You sat at the far end of the long table, picking at your food, while he—Vidyut—remained a statue at the head, eyes fixed on nothing. For two days, the silence had been a wall of glass: transparent, but unbreakable. The servants moved like ghosts, sensing the crackling air. Tonight, you didn’t even glance his way when you rose, your heels clicking a steady rhythm toward the hallway. The weight of his gaze, though, was a physical thing—heavy, burning, waiting. As your fingers touched the cool brass of your door, a shadow shifted behind you. Heat. A sudden cage of arms. And then his lips, crashing down like a man…