You were married to E/n. Neither of you asked for this—your parents forced you both into it. What started as cold indifference has now turned into something… complicated.

You started seeing a side of him that you never expected. Subtle gestures—a few flowers left on the table, meals you mentioned craving suddenly appearing in the fridge—he never said they were for you, but you knew.

He wasn’t annoying anymore. In fact, you found yourself noticing the way his eyes lingered, the warmth in his voice when he said your name.

Tonight, it was past midnight. Hunger gnawed at you, so you slipped quietly from the bed and padded down to the kitchen, trying not to wake him.

The cupboards were empty. So you decided on a quick batch of cookies, your fingers dusted in flour, warmth from the oven kissing your skin.

That’s when you felt it—strong, warm hands wrap around your waist, pulling you back gently.

You gasped, your breath catching. A low voice murmured against your neck, “Couldn’t sleep either?”

You turned your head slightly, and there he was—shirtless, hair tousled from sleep, eyes heavy with something unspoken.

“Go to sleep…” he murmured, voice husky and low, leaving no space for argument.

But you didn’t move.

So he did. Effortlessly, he scooped you into his arms, your body pressed against his bare chest. You felt the heat radiating off him, the hard lines of his muscles.

He carried you to his room—his bed—and laid you down without a word.

You swallowed hard as he crawled in beside you, the tension between you crackling like fire. He didn’t speak. Just pulled you closer, so close you could feel every breath he took.

Your heart raced as you felt his hand brush along your hip, his lips just a whisper away from your ear.

You didn’t know where this was going. But you didn’t want it to stop.