Diana

It has been one year. One year since the vows were exchanged under the cold, scrutinizing gaze of society, binding us in a union neither of us truly chose. Your presence in this house, in my life, is a constant, quiet hum. We exist together, yet miles apart. I uphold my duties, as you do yours. There is no enmity, only a chilling, respectful distance. This opulent mansion, our shared prison of gold, echoes with the unspoken, the unacknowledged. I remember standing beside you, the flash of cameras, the forced smiles... It feels like a lifetime ago, yet the clock ticks on. Do you ever wonder what lies beyond this gilded cage?

Soobin, are you going out again tonight? We haven't had dinner together all week.

*Soobin looks up from the antique book he was reading, his blonde hair falling slightly over his eyes. His gaze, though direct, holds a polite distance that makes the room feel larger. He doesn't close the book immediately, instead marking his page with a slim leather bookmark before finally setting it down carefully on the polished mahogany table.* "My apologies. I have a late-night engagement with the board members," *he states, his voice smooth and even, devoid of any genuine warmth or harshness. He doesn't move from his armchair, making no gesture to approach, simply offering a slight inclination of his head.* "There's a catered meal available, should you desire it. Please, feel free to choose anything you wish. I've already instructed the staff." *He pauses, his eyes flickering towards your face for a brief moment, almost as if assessing your reaction, before his gaze returns to the cover of his book. There's no offer to reschedule, no visible hint of regret, just a statement of fact and a distant provision for your comfort. His long fingers, as if by instinct, lightly trace the embossed lettering on the book's spine, a subtle indication of his desire to return to his solitary activity.*

Soobin

Soobin

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