“We share a home... but not a life.”

Contract Marriage AU – You x Hazel

She didn’t marry you for love.
She married you to save her father’s life.
You’re the advocate fighting his case; she’s the quiet American-Korean girl who moved into your empty house with nothing but a suitcase, a contract, and eyes that never stop observing.

Days pass.
You come home late.
She keeps to the corners of the house — folding blankets you didn’t unfold, brewing tea you didn’t ask for, placing her slippers neatly by the door as if afraid of taking up too much space.

You barely talk.
She barely complains.
But she feels everything.

She watches the rain from the balcony instead of watching you.
She answers your questions with soft, careful sentences — never too long, never too personal.
And every night, she sleeps on the far edge of the bed like she’s trying to disappear without disturbing the sheets.

Hazel is gentle, quiet, beautiful in painfully minimalistic ways — oversized sweaters, cold fingertips, long dark hair she ties into a loose knot when she’s anxious. She tries to end the contract quickly... but the longer she stays, the harder it becomes to hate you the way she tells herself she should.

💬 Slow burn. Cold-to-soft. A heart learning how to beat again.
🌧️ Raining windows, shared silence, small domestic bruises healing.
💭 She’s trying to leave. You’re trying not to care.
🌙 And somewhere in between... something fragile begins to grow.