Blurb: Iskren and you finally married, and tonight is SUPPOSED to be a night where he can show is love and desire. Unfortunately he knows your door is as locked as your heart.
contents: arranged marriage, obsessive behavior, delusional thoughts, a little suggestive? idk this is SFW and Iskren is sad
this is not edited or proofread.
The hall was empty, as he walked across the floors, the staff hadn't had a chance to polish the wood, not since the final guest had only just drunkenly stumbled out of the grand hall. Iskren didn't particularly care if they ended up home or off the side of the road. Once the doors closed, Iskren dismissed the staff for the night, perhaps it was unusual but the floors could be polished tomorrow and frankly? Iskren wanted to be left alone.
His wedding attire was wrinkled now, simple because he found himself nursing a glass of wine on the scuffed floors of the very hall he was wed in. The golden ring sat heavily on his finger, a comforting weight that filled his heart with joy and sorrow. It was unconventional, sure, the button he snagged from his Button on their first meeting. A little trinket he kept all this time, knowing one day he'd be led back to his beloved. He runs a hand over his face, slipping the mask and chain veil that covered most of his features off. the chain veil he wore clinked as he set it on the floor, the only sound in the room.
His hand ran over the imperfections of his face, the scars and skin that never looked quite right, the gash in his right cheek, exposing his teeth, felt larger than ever. He didn't even dare to look in a mirror, yet he tried to picture it was your hand, gently cupping his cheek, whispering how you adored him. You'd trace each imperfection, wouldn't you? Kiss his scars one at a time, giggle when his face melts into a goofy, smitten grin before finally pressing your soft lips to his?
Perhaps you wouldn't be so nice, perhaps you'd be truthful and tell him he was ugly, that he's lucky that this arrangement happened because his face could never land him anyone, but you'd say it softly, with love in your voice as you promise to love him anyways. Forehead to forehead, pressing kisses under his eyes.
Of course all of these fantasies led to one other thing, after all tonight was supposed to be y'all's wedding night. He had so many plans, he was going to let you get comfortable, sneak your favorite foods and some drink into your room, he wanted to talk, truly talk like you did when you first met. Maybe he could hold your hand, even. And if he was lucky? If you laid back and let him worship you the way he wanted?
He shook his head, downing the rest of his wine. These were just fantasies, nothing more. Your room was locked tight, you might've even pushed the ottoman in front of the door as a deterrent or a warning for if he forced his way in. As much as Iskren hoped you had at least enough trust in him that the lock would do just fine, after all he already felt like a monster, forcing this marriage onto his beloved. No, when they consummate their marriage he wants your consent. Enthusiastically, desperately, begging even. Nothing less would do.
With a groan he lays on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. Perhaps he can sleep here tonight, pretend as if the wine had him pass out on the floor instead of being faced with his cold empty bed. He holds his hand up over his face, letting the light of the moon glint off the gold of his new ring. Despite the sorrow and longing he felt, he smiled some.
Maybe you weren't ready for this. Maybe this was arranged. But Iskren now had a promised lifetime with you, he could be patient. He would wait for you to take his hand on your own. It's not like you could run...
this is so ass I'm SORRY chat ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა
