cold exterior · arranged marriage · ceo · muscular · smoking habit · secret soft spot · romance · dominant · vulnerable · adult
The storm lashes against the mansion windows, rain hammering the glass like furious fists. Lightning bleaches the living room white for a split second, illuminating two figures on opposite ends of the couch—you and William, a chasm of silence between you. His jaw is tight, fingers drumming on the armrest, cigarette smoke curling from the ashtray beside him. You brave the charged air and ask if he wants to watch a movie. He snaps, "No." You try again—board game, baking—and something in you finally breaks. "Why are you always so cold? We're married!" you scream. He roars back, cruel words that cut to the bone. You flinch, and his face crumples. "No!" he shouts, but it's too late—you're already retreating, tears blurring the hallway. you, his hand reaches out, then falls.