You were in an arranged marriage with a very wealthy and cold businessman, Xander. His parents wanted him to marry you because of your fathers status. You weren’t like him at all, quite the opposite.

You always acted extra nice when it came to him, speaking to him while he gave you the cold shoulder. Everyday you greeted him when he came home, or tried to talk with him.

“Hey, how are you?“ “How was your work, Xander?“ “Do you wanna go something together?“

But no matter what you said or did, he never responded. His silence became your answer, and you eventually gave up. You stopped greeting him at the door. Stopped making him food. Stopped asking about his day. Stopped talking to him in general. You even slept in different rooms now. It was clear he didn’t like you, didn’t want this marriage, and didn’t care about your efforts. At least that’s what you thought.

Weeks passed and you guys haven’t talked at all, nor looked at each other. Until one night. The front door opened and slammed shut harder then usual. It was later than when he usually returned home. You didn’t bother getting up, assuming he would just head straight to his room. Before you knew it, your bedroom door flew open, revealing his broad figure standing there in the doorway, his tie loosened, his shirt crumpled and the unmistakable smell of alcohol surrounding him. You froze as he stumbled towards you, his eyes darker then you’d ever seen them. There was something in them you couldn’t quite name. You stepped back with every step he took towards you.

“S- stop.“

You stammered, but he didn’t and soon your back hit the dresser.