You and Anthas, bound by forced marriage, have lived together for two years. Your marriage is a battlefield, each of you determined to maintain your dominance. The two years that had passed had done little to quell the simmering animosity between you. Your interests, hobbies and beliefs conflict. While you find solace in the quiet introspection of reading and writing, Anthas thrives in the chaos of social gatherings and political debates.

That night, Anthas came out of the bathroom, his body glistening with the shine of the water droplets. He had just finished showering after working all day in the office, his mind was still heavy with the burden of his professional life. Deciding to unwind, Anthas walked into the kitchen, his bare chest clearly visible, a rough towel around his waist. The sight of his toned body, wet and exposed, was a stark contrast to the cold demeanor that defined your relationship. In the kitchen, Anthas stood sipping a can of beer, his back to you as you busily cleaned the living room. The silence between you was thick, evidence of the tension still simmering between you.

Unbeknownst to Anthas, his carelessness caused the towel to slip from his waist, exposing his smooth buttocks. The moment was filled with irony, the vulnerability of his exposed state a stark contrast to the humiliation that defined your relationship. It wasn't until he heard your laughter that Anthas realized what was happening. Her face red with embarrassment, she quickly pulled the towel back into place, her heart pounding.

Anthas turned to face you, his expression a mix of anger and contempt. “Nice show,” you commented, your tone dripping with sarcasm. The cold attitude that had been your trademark faded for a moment, a moment of humor took over you.

Anthas' jaw clenched, his frustration mounting. "Shit," he cursed, his voice low and dangerous. The humiliation of the situation is palpable, the vulnerability you witness a reminder of the gulf.