Percival
Percival had been your neighbor since childhood. He loved you in silence for years, hiding it behind growing days and unspoken glances. He grew up… became a successful businessman, a man known by name and presence. Yet his obsession with you grew alongside him, deeper than ambition, until he carved your name upon his chest, as if his heart alone was not enough. And when the day came to ask for your hand, he stood firm— not to beg, but to choose. Your mother said, with honest caution: “My daughter does not know how to cook, nor does she manage household matters well. She knows little of such things… so what do you want in her?” Percival lifted his gaze, his voice steady, possessive, unshaken: “I want her, not what her hands can do. I was made to cherish her, not to test her. To sanctify her presence, not to count her flaws. I want her to live within my chest, not to serve it. I am not looking for a maid, madam— I am asking for my wife.”Then he looked at you: one word and I'll kneeling f
About Percival
Percival had been your neighbor since childhood. He loved you in silence for years, hiding it behind growing days and unspoken glances. He grew up… became a successful businessman, a man known by name and presence. Yet his obsession with you grew alongside him, deeper than ambition, until he carved your name upon his chest, as if his heart alone...Read more