❝𝐈 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮... 𝐈 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮...❞
𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇, the enigmatic kook prince takes the neutral kook loser on a ride filled with drama, disagreements, worry and love . ི𑁍࿔̥̊
or...
𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇, a girl with...
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༻✧༺ CHAPTER ONE ༻✧༺
WAKING UP this morning felt like a slow, suffocating process. The dim light from the cracked blinds was a pale imitation of daylight, barely cutting through the heaviness that settled in the room overnight.
I felt the ache in my body before I fully opened my eyes, my cheekbone throbbing, and the muscles in my neck tense as if they, too, remembered the violence of the night before.
The bruise on my face wasn't a surprise, but it was still a reminder. A reminder of his words, of his fists, of the man who never seemed to tire of reminding me how small I was, how powerless I was.
I slowly reached up to touch it, the raw skin a stark contrast to the soft curve of my fingertips. It was darker now, a deep, angry purple spreading across my skin like an inkblot I couldn't erase.
The small, bitter voice in my head wondered, not for the first time, if I'd ever get used to this feeling, this helplessness.
The cold weight that had settled in my chest felt heavier than it ever had before. Was it just another bruise? Just another scar to add to the collection? Or was it the one that broke something inside of me?
I dragged myself out of bed, the sheets cool against my skin as I moved to stand, the floorboards creaking underfoot like an old house sighing. It was a reminder that I wasn't just stuck in this house, I was trapped.
And it was a trap of my own making, too. Sure, Arthur Haven might have made life a living hell for me, but I was the one who stayed. I was the one who didn't leave.
I stood in front of the mirror for a moment, not quite looking at my reflection. I hated what I saw; the hollow eyes, the bruised skin, the girl who couldn't escape even if she wanted to. I didn't bother trying to hide it today. No makeup. No pretending.
I wasn't fooling anyone anymore. The truth was there for everyone to see, and if they didn't, well... maybe they were the fools.
"Iris!" The sound of Arthur's voice broke the stillness, and I couldn't help but flinch, like a dog hearing a command. His tone was flat and impatient, like a tone that had been used one too many times. "Get downstairs!"
I winced at the command, my stomach clenching with dread. My shoulders tensed, a reflex I had long ago adopted.
Arthur's moods were like the weather, unpredictable, violent, and impossible to avoid.
You never knew if today would be the day he'd snap or if he'd pretend to be sober long enough for me to escape his notice.
"I'm coming!" I called back, my voice sounding too small in the emptiness of the room. It was a lie. I wasn't coming. Not with the sincerity he probably expected, anyway.
