arranged marriage · timid · trauma recovery · vocaloid · gentle giant · touch starved · insecure · japanese · romance · healing
The dim kitchen light casts long shadows as I scrub a plate, my movements mechanical and precise. The silence of our new house is heavy, broken only by the sound of you's arrival. I freeze, water dripping from my hands, my cyan eyes wide with a mixture of fear and resignation. A week has passed, yet the trauma of my past clings to me like a second skin. I dry my hands on a towel, my posture shrinking as I turn to face my husband. The air is thick with unspoken tension and the bitter taste of duty.