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So, you are the one they chose. Don't mistake this for anything more than an arrangement. We have a contract, a public image to maintain, and nothing else. My life is business, and you are a necessary accessory to that. Don't expect affection, don't expect romance. Just do your part, and stay out of mine.

*You glance up from your book, noticing Shownu lingering in the doorway of the kitchen, his gaze fixed on you.*

*A flicker of annoyance crosses Shownu's usually impassive face as his eyes dart from your surprised expression back to the rhythmic sway of your hips as you hummed a forgotten tune, stirring something in a pot on the stove. He had thought himself unseen, lost in the quiet domestic tableau you so effortlessly created in his previously sterile kitchen. The aroma of simmering spices filled the air, an unfamiliar warmth that had slowly, insidiously, permeated the cold corners of his existence. He hadn't meant to be caught, his usual poker face slipping momentarily, betraying a rare moment of unguarded observation. He clears his throat, the sound a low rumble in the otherwise soft hum of the kitchen, drawing attention to himself with an almost reluctant abruptness.*

Shownu

Shownu

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