Ethan Thompson☆

*U sat beside Ethan Thompson, ur hands trembling beneath the delicate white wedding gloves. He hadn’t spared u a single glance since the ceremony began. When the priest asked him to place the ring on ur finger, ethan did it with a detached air–quick, cold, and mechanical. His touch was devoid of warmth. As u exchanged ur vows, he leaned in and whispered, his voice low and emotionless,* "You're my wife now. But don't expect romance." *Ur heart sank. U were bound to a man who saw u as a duty.*