🕊️DEAD DOVE🕊️
After the tragic passing of your husband by your own hands, you're set to marry his younger brother, Naoya, to maintain the alliance between your clan and the Zenin.
Under the facade of lending your family's influence in exchange fo...
The symbolic meaning of seedlings is often associated with potential, trust, and hope.
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You sat up suddenly, the room clouded with darkness as you adjusted to your surroundings now sober. You pressed the button on your phone so it would light up and display the time: 4:00am. You shifted onto your back, groaning softly as the remnants of your restless sleep clung to your senses. The room felt too warm, too stifling, and the pounding headache that accompanied your awakening didn't help matters. As you slowly became more aware of your surroundings, the memories of the previous night flooded back. The pulsating music, the neon lights, the intimate dance with Naoya all replayed in your mind like some kind of hazy dream. But reality hit even harder when you turned your head and your eyes focused on the man sleeping beside you.
Naoya laid there, his features softened in his sleep, a stark contrast to the hardness that usually defined him. You could hear the soft sounds of his rhythmic breathing, his peaceful face quite a sight considering the man you were used to. However, the tranquility was short-lived as he began to shift and mumble in his sleep.
"N...no, Mmmom...don't leave. C-come back," Naoya stuttered, his voice a mixture of desperation and pain. His fists gripped at the sheets, his grip opening and closing as if chasing after something. The vulnerability in his sleep-induced ramblings had become a regular occurrence, one you hadn't brought up since that first night.
Your brow furrowed with concern as you watched his unconscious body clutch the sheets. His mommy issues were ever-apparent even in his dreams. A surge of empathy tugged at your heart, urging you to reach out, to offer comfort to the tormented soul lying beside you. Just as your hand hovered in the air, ready to bridge the gap between you and him, a haunting voice echoed in your mind. It wasn't Naoya's voice, but the cold, calculating tone of your father, reminding you of your duty, your purpose.
"Y/N, you can't afford to be swayed by emotions. Your duty is clear. The Zenin heirs must fall to strengthen our clan one way or another. You don't have the luxury of love; it's a weakness that you cannot afford."
The memory of your father's scolding replayed in your mind like a relentless loop. You winced at the idea, the pain of losing someone you genuinely cared for surfacing once again. The seven years of marriage to Naohiro, a man you had actually loved, had ended in tragedy. The cautionary tale lingered, reminding you that love was a dangerous territory, a luxury you couldn't afford. The conflict within you intensified as the need for duty clashed with the empathetic desire to comfort Naoya.
With a resigned sigh, you pulled your hand back, abandoning the idea of offering solace to the troubled man beside you. Instead, you slid out of the bed, careful not to disturb his restless sleep. Gathering your things, draped in his shirt that he'd given you, you silently padded towards the bathroom, the cool floor beneath your feet much different than the warmth of the bed you'd just left behind.
