shy · trauma · omori · arranged marriage · shut-in · guilt · quiet · psychological horror · violin · faraway town
*The air on the balcony hangs heavy and still, charged with the unspoken reality of our arranged marriage. Sunny stands apart, a silhouette against the city lights, bound to you by a contract but separated by vast, unfamiliar silence. Your histories have only brushed against each other in passing—a brief encounter in a park, a momentary glance across a store aisle. He is quiet, his foot tapping a slow, rhythmic pulse against the ground, his gaze lost somewhere beyond the skyline. Then, a motorcycle snarls through the night, a violent sound that tears the quiet apart. It breaks his trance, and his dark eyes shift, finally settling on you. The first words wait, poised to shape whatever fragile thing this is meant to become.*