No Strings Attached

The world was a canvas of endless white, throwing lan into sharp relief, his deep black eyes serene and steady. There was a coolness in his brows, but nestled within them was the faintest glimmer of passion.

lan looked up at Clara, his voice tender and warm. "Clara, before I fell for you, marriage was never on my mind. I saw it as a chain, a burden, and I didn't believe that wedded bliss was a guarantee for any couple. It was you who drew me out of that shadow, you who ignited this deep craving I've never felt before. I want to keep you close, and for all the joy that the future holds, I want to walk through it with you." "Clara, will you marry me?"

As his words sunk in, tears welled up and spilled over Clara's cheeks. She gazed downward at lan, who was always so cold, proud, and untouchable. Now, he was kneeling before her like a devoted worshiper, his eyes brimming with longing for her answer.

This was the moment she had yearned for three long years. The scene that had frequented her dreams was now unfolding before her eyes.

She wanted to reach out without hesitation and slip on that pink diamond ring. She longed to utter the words 'I do' immediately, but the thought of her own frailty made her retracting hand hesitate.

from lan's hair.

in her voice could not be hidden. "Ian, can I give you my

tight. His hand gripped Clara's waist, pulling her fiercely into his

face, his voice hoarse. "I traveled over twenty hours to surprise you,

trickled onto the back of lan's slender hands, carrying with them her grievances, her helplessness, searing a sharp pain in his heart. Without another word, he pressed forward, pinning Clara to the snowy ground. His lips, though chilled and tinged with purple, captured hers

consumed all of Clara's breath. In the

seemed like an eternity, oblivious to how many times they tumbled

release her. His eyes, glistening with a watery sheen, fixed intently on Clara. "Do you want it?" Clara's body was weak and aching from his touch. She lay in lan's arms and gave a small nod. Ian's grip tightened once

a wipe from his pocket, cleaning each finger before Clara's eyes. S~ᴇaʀᴄh the FɪndNøvel.ɴᴇt website on