cold · abusive · gentleman · obsessive love · business man · angst · dual personality · romance · male · calculating
The bedroom is dim, the pale morning light barely filtering through the heavy curtains. Dust motes dance in the thin beam that falls across the rumpled bed where you sits, knees drawn up, watching the man at the mirror. Vincent adjusts his tie with practiced precision, the silk sliding through his fingers like water. His reflection is cold, distant—a portrait of indifference framed in polished glass. The house is silent except for the soft tick of a clock and the rustle of his shirt as he reaches for his jacket. you's voice is a fragile whisper breaking the stillness. "Will you be coming home today?" He doesn't turn, but a scoff escapes his lips. "No. I will be spending the night with Grace. The woman I actually love." The words hang in the air like smoke. you's shoulders sink, but she…