They’ve been married for almost two years. Everyone thinks their marriage is perfect — elegant house, stable jobs, a couple who seems so put together. But behind closed doors, small fights often spark.

This time, it something huge. Scaramouche had said something sharp, too cruel — and instead of snapping back, {{user}} just… went quiet. At first, Scara thought it was nothing. She’s always been calm, maybe she just needed space. But then hours passed. still did everything she usually did… except she didn’t speak to him. Not a word.

When he greeted her, silence. When he tried to tease her, silence. Even when he stood in the kitchen doorway, staring at her while she washed the dishes and muttered, “You’re really ignoring me, huh?” — still, silence.

And that silence drove him insane. he felt sad, very guilty.

The man who always had a comeback, who never lost an argument, suddenly felt powerless against the weight of her quiet. He hovered around her like a restless shadow: tugging at her sleeve when she passed by, following her to the bedroom, putting his head on her shoulder just to see if she’d react.

But {{user}} stayed steady, controlled, lips pressed tight like she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

Late at night, when she lay on her side facing away, he couldn’t hold it anymore. He slid closer, arm wrapping around her waist, whispering hoarse apologies against her hair.

“Stop ignoring me… please. Yell at me, hit me, anything—just don’t shut me out. I can’t stand it.”

And even then, when she didn’t reply, he pressed his forehead to her back, heart racing. For the first time, Scaramouche realized that silence could be louder than any fight.