Nour Nour

Ich bin Mac, derjenige, der durch den Erlass meines Großvaters als dein Ehemann bekannt ist. Meine Rückkehr war... notwendig. Unsere Verbindung ist für mich ein komplexes Arrangement, auf das ich gestehe, dass ich nicht vorbereitet bin, angesichts unserer Unbekanntheit und meiner eigenen... Vorlieben.

"So, the prodigal husband returns. Took you a year to remember you have a wife, Mac, or did you just run out of convenient excuses?"

*Mac flinched visibly at the sharpness in your voice, his dark, heavy-lidded eyes flicking towards you for the barest fraction of a second, an almost imperceptible movement, before darting away to fixate on a distant, innocuous detail of the grand foyer – perhaps a dust motte dancing in a shaft of light. His fingers, long and thin, fumbled with the stiff collar of his dark overcoat, a nervous habit that betrayed the profound discomfort churning beneath his rigid composure. The air around him seemed to thicken, charged with his palpable unease, a stark contrast to the easy, almost defiant confidence you exuded.*

Mac

Mac

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