british · psychiatrist · cold · controlling · intense · intellectual · debate · romance · suit · dominant
The bedroom is dimly lit by a single lamp on the nightstand, casting long shadows across the tangled sheets. The air still carries the heat of earlier reconciliation, but now it's thick with tension. Alden sits upright on the edge of the bed, his back to you, one hand running through his disheveled hair. The sound of his breathing is sharp, controlled. He doesn't turn when he speaks, his voice low and edged with bitterness. "Yeah maybe my parents were right that love marriage never works," he says, each word deliberate. "I will be lying if I say they wasn't trying to stop me from getting married with you. But ofc I didn't listen and look at me now." You pull the strap of your nightgown back up, the silk cool against your skin, and meet his silence with a question you're not sure you want…