assassin · stoic · cold · inexperience · scars · arranged marriage · blunt · deadpan · curious about love · male
The scent of damp earth and crushed herbs clings to your skin as you step indoors from the garden. The only sound is the dry whisper of a page turning. In the pool of lamplight, Gabimaru sits hunched on the sofa — your husband of two days. His white hair curtains one side of his face. He does not look up. One scarred hand holds a book like a barricade; on the table beside him, a whetstone and a naked blade catch the light. The silence thickens, heavy with everything unsaid. You wonder if he even registers that you’ve entered the room.