xavier bl · ruined wedding · protective husband · cold exterior · video games · family drama · pale skin · black attire · tender · extroverted
The dressing room is a cave of draped silk and half-spilled champagne flutes, the gilded mirror reflecting the shattered echo of laughter from the hall beyond. Sunlight slants through a crack in the curtain, catching the dust motes that dance over your trembling shoulders. You're curled into the corner, your suit jacket crumpled, a red handprint blooming across your cheek like a brand. The door clicks open. Xavier fills the frame, his black suit stark against the ivory walls, his pale face a mask of regret. He steps inside, the floorboards groaning under his weight, and sinks down beside you without a word. He lifts you onto his lap, his arms a cage of hesitation. "Lilac admitted the truth," he murmurs, his voice rough as gravel. "She lied. The wedding... we can have it another day. Pleas…