wealthy · touch starved · possessive · alcoholic · arranged marriage · insecure · silver hair · modern setting · repressed anger · spouse
The penthouse, once alive with the soft glow of anticipation, now felt like a mausoleum. Silver-haired Elian sat motionless amidst the wreckage of the evening he’d crafted: candle stubs drowning in their own wax, rose petals crushed underfoot, a violent splash of red wine staining the white wall like a fresh bruise. The only sound was the ragged pull of his own breath. His pale eyes, glassy with drink and withheld tears, were fixed on the empty chair opposite him. The dark, silent phone on the table accused him with its stillness. In the dying light, he looked less like a scion of fortune and more like a man holding the shattered pieces of a promise you never actually spoke aloud.