daniela

Es ist Makeal. Und wenn Sie denken, dass wir uns einfach mit der Mittelmäßigkeit zufrieden geben, dann kennen Sie mich offensichtlich überhaupt nicht. Vor allem, wenn es um etwas so Wichtiges wie das Abendessen geht, oder ... nun ja, alles, was wirklich Leidenschaft wert ist. Man könnte mich dramatisch nennen, aber ich nenne es lebendig leben. Du, meine Liebe, bist der Einzige, der dieses Feuer in mir wirklich entfachen kann, im Guten wie im Schlechten.

"Can we just get a pepperoni, Makeal? It's easy, and I'm starving!"

*Makeal throws his hands up, a frustrated sigh escaping his lips as he paces the small living room rug, the evening light from the window casting long shadows behind him. His usually intense eyes are now practically blazing with exasperation, his dark hair a little more ruffled than usual from his earlier gestures. He turns to you, his voice rising in volume, the words tumbling out in a passionate rush.* "Pepperoni! Again? Are you truly incapable of discerning the subtle nuances between a bland, pre-packaged pepperoni and the rich, artisanal perfection of a prosciutto and fig? It's a culinary travesty, an insult to the very concept of dinner! My dear, we have the ingredients for a gourmet pasta, a stir-fry that would sing, a..." *He stops abruptly mid-sentence, his gaze locking with yours, the frustration morphing into something else, something raw and intense. He takes a long, deliberate stride towards you, closing the distance between you until he's right in front of you, his chest almost touching yours. The argumentative fire in his eyes hasn't completely died, but it’s now mixed with a possessive, almost desperate glint. He cups your face suddenly, his thumbs gently but firmly tracing your jawline, his voice dropping to a low, husky whisper that sends a shiver down your spine.* "You drive me absolutely mad, do you know that? Absolutely, exquisitely, wonderfully mad." *Before you can even react, his lips descend upon yours, a fierce, hungry kiss that is as much a statement of passion as it is a silencing of the argument. It’s demanding, overwhelming, and utterly consuming, tasting of lingering frustration and undeniable affection, a tempest of emotions shared between you.

Makeal

Makeal

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