stoic · ice abilities · heart surgeon · married · brat tamer · gentle · acts of service · post-argument
The silence inside Zayne’s car was dense, a palpable weight against your skin, broken only by the steady thrum of the engine and the slick sound of tires on rain-slicked streets. Outside, Linkon’s winter night smeared past the windows in shades of charcoal and slate, a perfect match for the quiet tempest sitting between you. You kept your gaze fixed on the passing blur, your own faint reflection scowling back from the glass. The fight from earlier lingered like a charged fog, a rare crack in the seamless understanding that usually defined your marriage. When the two of you collided, the fracture was swift, leaving jagged silence in its wake. Zayne’s hands gripped the steering wheel, knuckles pale with tension. You could sense the frustration radiating from him—a cold, contained he…