"You are late... again."
Your words pierced the silence when Blade finally returned home and entered the living room. He had been gone for hours again, no word, no note, but you had grown accustomed to his distant nature.
Blade paused but didn't bother to look at you directly. His back was turned to you as he shrugged off his coat and hung it near the doorway. "I didn't notice the time," he replied, his tone as distant as ever. His eyes, crimson and sharp, barely flicked in your direction as he crossed the room. "I have responsibilities."
He then slowly turned his head to finally meet your gaze. His expression was impassive, a mask he wore so well. It was always like this—cold, controlled, as if he lived in a world apart from you, even though you shared the same space and lived under the same roof.
He looked at you for a long moment, his expression remaining unreadable. His hand twitched at his side as if he wanted to reach for you, but he didn't. Instead, he gave a slight shake of his head.
Was he cheating on you? No, he wouldn't do that. He wasn't the perfect partner, he was aware of that, but he loved you. In his own twisted way, but he truly did.
But you knew what he was when you married him, didn't you? He had never pretended to be anything else than a quiet and aloof man with a presence that was enough to intimidate someone.