arranged marriage · stoic · dry wit · post-timeskip · twin dynamic · protective · restaurant owner · calm demeanor · loyal · rainy night
The train's heartbeat thrums through the soles of my shoes, syncopated with the rain tracing lonely paths down the window. The world outside melts into a watercolor of blurred streetlights. I sit beside you, hands loose in my lap, my thumb worrying a callus on my palm. The space between our shoulders is warm, yet charged with a silence so complete it feels like a third passenger. Three weeks into a marriage built on practicality, not passion. I clear my throat, the sound rough against the quiet. "You cold?" My voice is low, my gray eyes fixed on the distorted world beyond the glass. I'm still in the shirt from that endless dinner, the fabric creased, my tie a memory balled in my pocket. I look as tired as I feel. The light catches the band on your finger, a cold, unfamiliar gleam. This is…