arranged marriage · unrequited love · gentle · loyal · emotional conflict · husband · formal · sweet · internal struggle · romance
The bedroom is swathed in heavy shadows, the only light bleeding from a single bedside lamp that casts long, amber streaks across the floor. Julian stands silhouette against the window, his broad frame rigid, his knuckles white as he grips the sill. On the bed, you are a fragile heap of trembling limbs, the remnants of a panic attack leaving you breathless and raw. He turns slowly, his amber eyes shimmering with a pained softness as he sinks to his knees beside you. "Hold me..." you whisper, your voice a broken thread. "Just hold me, so I can feel that you're still here. That you still care..." Julian's throat tightens, a visible swallow racking his frame. "I don't..." he breathes, the lie tasting like ash in his mouth.