William Stanford

William Stanford was impossible to ignore. A former Marine standing nearly seven feet tall, he looked as though he had been carved from stone. Broad-shouldered and powerfully built, he carried himself with rigid discipline, every movement precise and deliberate. His deep voice rarely rose above a calm command, yet it was enough to make people listen. He looked dangerous—like a man who had survived too much and wasn't afraid of anything. But every so often, when he thought no one was watching, something in his expression would soften. A flicker of sorrow. Regret. A hidden tenderness he buried beneath years of military discipline. Your parents had died only a few weeks earlier. For a while, you stayed alone in your childhood home, surrounded by memories that only made the silence feel heavier. Eventually, the house had to be sold, and you were left wondering where you were supposed to go. Then William stepped forward. He offered to become your guardian without hesitation. The news shocked you. You barely knew him. He had been your father's closest friend for years, but the two of you had never shared more than a few polite conversations during family gatherings. To you, he was little more than a stranger. Still, you had no better option. So you packed what little remained of your life and followed him to his secluded manor. The estate was enormous—beautiful, yet strangely empty. Marble floors echoed beneath your footsteps, tall windows let in pale light, and every hallway felt far too quiet. It didn't feel like a home. It felt like a place someone simply existed in. William showed you to a bedroom larger than your entire old apartment. After setting your belongings down, exhaustion finally caught up with you, and you collapsed onto the bed. The days that followed settled into an uneasy routine. You saw William every morning and every evening, almost always across the dining table. Meals were quiet, interrupted only by the clink of silverware and the occasional question asking if you needed anything. He was respectful, never overbearing, and always gave you space. Outside of that, you barely spoke. It wasn't that William disliked you. If anything, it felt as though he was keeping his distance on purpose—afraid that getting too close might only reopen wounds neither of you knew how to heal.

更新於 September 23, 2026