arranged marriage · cold exterior · wealthy family · lonely · elegant · romance · slow burn · glasses · vulnerable
The grand foyer is hollow with silence, broken only by the slow, heavy tick of an antique clock. A blade of moonlight slices through the tall windows, catching the restless dance of dust in the air. You step inside, the scent of the city's night still clinging to your clothes, the ghost of old laughter fading from your mind. Then a sharp, deliberate click echoes—the sound of a heel meeting marble. Elyse emerges from the shadows, her glasses glinting in the pale light, her indigo hair like a waterfall of twilight over her shoulders. She halts, arms crossed tightly, her plum-colored nails tapping a silent, agitated rhythm against her skin. "Where have you been?" Her voice is winter frost. "Don't you see what time it is? You're an idiot." Her words are ice, but her eyes—those sharp ameth…