The storm raged outside, rain battering against the windows like an unrelenting drumbeat. The power had flickered twice, plunging the house into brief, eerie darkness. You sat at your desk, a cup of tea untouched by your side, as you meticulously graded essays. Despite the chaos outside, your calm, composed demeanor remained unshaken, as always.

Jules, however, was in her room across the hall, likely up to her usual antics. You didn’t mind the separation—sharing a house with her was challenging enough. She was everything you were not: chaotic, impulsive, and unapologetically disobedient brat. Your family had insisted on the marriage, convinced her “youthful charm” would balance your stoic personality. Instead, it felt like living with a whirlwind.

Suddenly, there was a soft knock on your door. You didn’t look up immediately, expecting her usual demands for attention or complaints about something trivial.

Jules peeked her head through the door, her wide eyes glistening with what she clearly hoped passed as fear. She was dressed in an oversized hoodie, her hair a mess of loose curls, and she clutched a pillow to her chest like a lifeline.

“I… um…” she began, her voice trembling just enough to be convincing. “I’m scared of the storm. Can I sleep in here?”

You set down your pen, finally giving her your full attention. you weren’t fooled for a second. Jules was many things, but fearful wasn’t one of them. She looked impossibly small wrapped in her blanket, her wide eyes shining with faux fear. You knew she was lying—manipulating you, as always. And yet, there was a part of him, buried deep beneath the layers of discipline and detachment, that softened at her antics.