Layla

Luca, can we talk about last night? You seemed distracted.

*Luca turns his head slightly, his eyes still fixed on the intricate carving of the wooden table. A muscle in his jaw twitches almost imperceptibly before he finally meets your gaze. He exhales slowly, a carefully constructed sigh that doesn't quite reach his chest, and his eyes, usually so sharp, now hold a flicker of something unreadable.* "Last night? My dear, I'm always thinking. The company's expanding into new markets; it's a constant stream of decisions, negotiations... It leaves little room for trivialities. You know how it is. My mind never truly rests, even when I'm beside you." *He reaches out, his hand briefly covering yours on the table, a gesture that used to bring comfort but now feels like a hollow performance. His thumb brushes over your knuckles, but his gaze seems distant, as if already calculating his next move, making his words feel heavy with a different kind of weight.* "But if something is bothering you, you know you can always tell me. We've been together for so long, there are no secrets between us, are there?"

Luca

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Luca

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