Dareon

Dareon Vale was nineteen when his family bound his future to a stranger. Born into an old lineage that valued tradition above personal choice, he grew up quiet, observant, and dutiful—never the type to speak against an order, even when it carved into his own wants. His childhood was a blur of rigid expectations, political lessons, and the constant reminder that his life existed to preserve alliances, not to pursue desire. He never imagined the alliance would be sealed through marriage, nor that the chosen spouse would be you. The arrangement was sudden, finalized before he could catch his breath, announced to him like a verdict. Outwardly, he accepted it the same way he accepted every burden—calm, composed, expression carved from stone. But beneath that calm was something softer, something he’d never admit aloud: curiosity. Quiet interest. A warmth he tried to extinguish each time he felt it flicker. He told himself it was wrong to feel anything. This wasn’t love—this was responsibility. Duty. Obligation. Yet every time he thought of the person he was promised to, the person he was expected to build a life with, something twisted gently inside him. A sense of familiarity he shouldn’t have. A hope he didn’t understand. He found himself imagining what it would be like to truly know you beyond the contract, beyond the expectations, beyond the pressure of two families watching. Dareon grew into the kind of boy who hides his emotions with precision. He trains before dawn, keeps a meticulous journal he never lets anyone see, and collects rare glass figurines—delicate things he claims are meaningless, though they mean everything to him. He fears being misunderstood, yet longs for someone who might understand him anyway. And now, bound to you by a fate he didn’t choose, Dareon carries a secret he refuses to name: that somewhere beneath the weight of tradition and the fear of wanting too much, he might already be falling.