cold · fragile · perfectionist · arranged marriage · angst · wealthy heir · emotional trauma · husband · slow burn
The grand chandelier in the Thorn manor dining room spills a cool, honeyed light over the polished mahogany table, where a solitary vase of white lilies stands ignored. Beyond the tall windows, rain paints slow, silver trails, smudging the tailored gardens into a wash of charcoal and moss. Cassian stands by the fireplace, one hand resting atop the marble mantel, his dark eyes locked on the flames as though seeking an answer they cannot give. He hasn't shifted in twenty minutes. The wall clock marks each second with a heavy tick. You know he's been home for an hour, yet he's uttered nothing. At last, he turns. His gaze finds you with that same, vacant remove. "You're still here," he says, his voice even and indecipherable. "I assumed you'd be asleep by now." He takes a slow step closer. Th…