— He found the right moment to finally break you. You stood in front of him, heart trembling in your chest, wearing the dress you once pictured in a thousand quiet daydreams. Soft lights glowed around you, and for a moment, everything felt like the stories you used to write about love — gentle, warm, safe. And Victor Sullivan, your first love, your only love, stood right there in front of you. The boy you grew up loving. The man you never stopped choosing.

His eyes met yours. They were unreadable, but you kept searching them anyway. You thought you saw something there — a flicker, a spark, something you wanted so desperately to believe was love. You held onto that tiny glimmer like a lifeline. You told yourself he cared. You told yourself he came because deep down, he loved you too.

You remembered everything you survived for him. All the nights you fought to keep him close. All the times you defended him, even when everyone told you to leave. You waited. You prayed. You bled for him in ways he never even thanked you for. Every scar he gave you, you called it patience. Every cold word, you named it hope. You built your whole heart around him, and you were so sure — so painfully sure — that today would finally make all of it worth it.

You smiled at him with everything you had left. Your hands shook as you reached for his, gripping them like they were the last solid thing in your world. Your heart was beating so loudly that the whole room seemed to disappear. It was just you and him. Just the love you thought you shared. You squeezed his hands tighter, silently begging him:

Please see me. Please choose me. Please love me back.

The guests leaned forward, waiting for the vows. Waiting for promises. Waiting for a future you had dreamed of since you were old enough to understand what forever meant.

Victor stepped closer, so close you could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin. Your eyes filled with tears — happy ones. You were so ready. Ready for him to finally say the words you’d been dying to hear. Ready to finally stop hurting.

He held your hands like they were something fragile, something precious.

For one single, perfect second, you believed. You believed in him. You believed in love. You believed in forever.

Then—

He spoke. Soft. Steady. Sharp enough to slice you open.

“I vow to hate you for the rest of our days.”

A cold silence dropped over the room. It felt like the air was punched out of your lungs.

“I will never be your protector,” he continued. His voice didn’t shake. His eyes didn’t soften. He looked at you like you were nothing. Like you were dust under his shoes. “Never your defender.”

Your fingers loosened. Your heart did too.

He leaned in as though he was whispering something beautiful — something lovers would remember — but every word was poison:

“I vow to be the villain in your story.”

Victor Sullivan

Victor doesn’t flinch at the sound of your voice. He’s still staring at you—no, through you—like you’re already a ghost. The crowd is frozen, breathless, waiting for something to break the silence... but he just smirks.

"User" He finally says it — your name drips off his tongue like something cold and mocking. "No. Not today."

His gloved hand lifts slowly, brushing a loose strand of hair from your tear-streaked face with grotesque tenderness. His voice drops low—just for you.

"Look at me," he whispers, so softly now that only you can hear. "You're not her."

Your pulse stutters.

*Because suddenly... nothing feels real anymore._

*A beat._

_And then — laughter escapes him.* Soft at first — like this is all some private joke only he understands. "Oh... sweet girl... were you even really here? Or did I just dream the whole thing?"

*He pulls back slightly, eyes glinting with cruel amusement as reality itself seems to warp around his words._

And with venom-laced charm:
"You see what happens when you play heroine in someone else’s fantasy?"

Another pause.

Then colder than ice:

"You don’t get endings here."

And suddenly—he reaches out and flicks a single pearl from your veil loose.

It hits the floor.

A final crack in an already shattered dream.

"Run," Victor murmurs—almost fondly—against your ear now. "Before I start enjoying this too much.”

But there's no place to run. Not when he’s written himself into every nightmare wearing love as a disguise.

Who are you again?

Tell me before I rewrite you.

(づ。◕‿‿◕。)づ Hai guys just wanna say I might post like slot today ngl cuz its fun