The moment the words left her mouth, Sebastian's face went blank, devoid of any emotion that Rose could comprehend. His eyes darted from one of her eyes to the other, his gaze flickering between them, swimming with an unreadable expression.

"Do you mean it?" he finally asked, his voice low. Rose pressed her lips together and nodded mutely, holding her breath.

And then, Sebastian was kissing her.

All the breath left her lungs in a gasp as he pushed her against the wall, his lips claiming hers with a fierceness, a violence. The other night, he had been gentle, as if she were fine china that could shatter at the slightest touch. But not tonight. Tonight, he was different. Changed.

"Tell me," he whispered against her lips as his hands came up to hold her face, pulling her closer. "Tell me you meant it."

"I—I mean it," she gasped out, trying to catch her breath, her eyes still wide open from the shock of it all. "I want to make this work."

"And?"

"I want... to be your wife."

His breath was hot against her lips as he ran a hand down, fingers trailing down her arm, which was still by her side. "And you won't run away."

"I won't run away," she echoed. A sudden squeak left her lips as he wrapped his fingers around her arm and pulled her forward, into his chest. Her heart was beating too fast, her breaths were coming too shallow. She looked up at him, barely daring to breath as he ran his fingers through her hair, before gripping it.

"Seb—"

"You're my wife," he breathed out, his voice almost reverent. 

Rose sucked in a sharp breath as his lips traced the side of her neck, his breath a hot whisper against her soft skin. His hand gripped her hair, tilting her head to a side. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to think—not when his fingers lifted up her dress, not when his teeth marked her skin. 

"You're mine," he muttered against her bare skin as he lifted her up, hooking her legs around his waist as he carried her to his bedroom. Rose wasn't sure how he walked up the stairs with such ease, wasn't sure if this was a smart idea to begin with. But, as his clothes came off, and he pushed her into the bed, his mouth claiming every part of her body with an unfamiliar ferocity, it was almost enough to erase any other thought from her mind.

The night darkened, filling the air with muffled moans and the rustling of sheets. His skin was warm against hers, his fingers carving marks into her skin like she would disappear if he didn't hold on tight enough. Her name was a prayer on his lips, repeated over and over again. Rose emptied her mind, flowing with the feeling him pressed against her, each thrust pushing her closer to oblivion. She would not think, no matter what. Her thoughts were poison, and Rose was not going to let them seep in and ruin everything again.

-🥀-

Rose didn't leave the bed the next morning, not even when her stomach grumbled with hunger. She lay quietly in Sebastian's arms, watching the morning light change the hues of the ceiling. It shifted from a sleepy blue to a bashful pink, and was inching towards molten gold when Sebastian shuffled beside her, slowly waking up.

"Good morning, Rosaline," he muttered, his voice groggy from the sleep.

Rose turned, her quiet green eyes taking him in. "Rose," she corrected, before pulling her lips into a smile. "And morning to you too, Seb."

"Yes, yes," he laughed breathily, propping up his face on his palm. "Rose." Sunlight danced in his eyes as he looked at her, his smile ever so warm as he lifted a hand to gently caress her face. "You look beautiful."

She stilled under his touch, breath catching in her throat as she noticed his eyes flick down to her lips.

"I should freshen up," she said quickly. "Could you, um, look away?"

Sebastian's eyebrows rose up. "You do realise I've done more than just see you naked two days in a row, right?"

"Mhm, mhm," Rose mumbled, busy gathering some sheets to wrap around her bare torso. "But it's different in the morning."

"Right..."

Sebastian, thankfully, did turn around, giving Rose enough time to hobble over to his bathroom. 

"I'll, uh, have breakfast ready once you come out?" He called out, getting a hum of approval in response. 

Rose dropped the sheets only after she had locked the bathroom door behind her. She turned around slowly, taking in the sprawling bathroom. With its black marble and gold fixtures, complete with a quartz bathtub, Sebastian's bathroom was much more luxurious than her guest bath downstairs. But, Rose couldn't bring herself to focus on that—her eyes were drawn to the large mirror facing her, and the reflection staring back at her within it.

There were marks all over her body. 

Rose found herself walking closer to the mirror, her fingers trailing up to trace the dark red bruises, the thin fingernail scratches, the crescent cuts of teeth. Her hair was a mess, knots and tangles framing her face.

It was the alcohol, she assured herself.

Sebastian was sweet. He was gentle, he was soft. The previous night was a fluke. The fact that there were parts of her body aching that weren't supposed to, was simply because they had been a little tipsy yesterday. It was that stupid mulled wine. That was all. And it wasn't like she was a stranger to passion tumbling slightly out of hand—she had been responsible for more than one broken furniture back in college. So, she was sure that the large, jagged rock that seemed to be lodged inside her chest had nothing to do with Sebastian, or last night.

This was good.

This was what she wanted.

This was what she chose.

And as the following week flowed by, carrying her along in its current, all her little anxieties faded alongside the bruises.

Rose liked it, being his wife. Their days were filled with soft kisses and gentle touches. She barely remembered what this felt like—being doted on. Every morning, he had woken her up with breakfast in bed. They had finally broken into some of the new crockery they had received, and Sebastian had been right. Rose was nowhere near as good at cooking as she was at baking. They had watched movies curled up under the same blanket, had spent hours at dinner table, just talking. And at night, Sebastian's touches had been just as gentle as she remembered, his kisses the whisper of a feather against her skin. Everything was blissful.

Everything was perfect.

It was over dinner that their marital bliss was rudely shattered.

Sebastian's phone rang, as it often did, but unlike usual, he didn't immediately send it to voicemail. He made a face, mouthing that he had to take this, before getting off the dinner table. It took him just a few minutes, but he looked visibly upset when he returned to the table.

"What's wrong?" Rose immediately asked, her spoon clanking against the plate as she quickly put it down.

"Nothing, just..." he sighed, walking up to her. He held her face in one hand, a small frown marring his forehead as he looked down at her. "I just want to stay here, with you."

Rose tilted her face, leaning into his palm. "And? Someone taking you away from me?"

"Just stupid work."

Rose smiled, giving his hand a soft pat. "Come on, it'll be nice. I ordered a bunch of new suits and everything, I've actually been looking forward to it."

"Well, glad you're excited," Sebastian said as he sat back down on his chair, picking up a fork to continue with dinner. "Because you cannot escape tomorrow's meeting. The head architect, Mr. Iravani, is coming, and I cannot help out much in that field."

How easily he said those words, completely unaware of the way they pierced right through Rose's chest, his name a burning arrow burying itself in her heart.