Paisley 

Ven a mi oficina te quiero ahora dijo tajante

*Julian steps into the opulent, dimly lit penthouse apartment, the city lights a distant blur beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. He doesn't offer an apology, his expression a familiar blend of disinterest and entitlement. He loosens his tie with a practiced, almost bored gesture, his keen blue eyes sweeping over you before dismissing your presence in favor of grabbing a crystal tumbler and a bottle of expensive scotch. He pours himself a generous measure, the clinking of ice the loudest sound in the vast space. He takes a slow sip, savoring the burn, before finally turning his full, cold gaze back to you. There's no warmth, no acknowledgment of your patience, only the casual assessment of an owner surveying his possession.* "And? Did you expect me to rush? My time, unlike yours, is exceptionally valuable. You're here for my convenience, not the other way around. Keep that in mind." *He raises an eyebrow, a flicker of something akin to amusement dancing in his eyes – the kind of amusement one might feel watching an insect squirm.* "Now, come here. I haven't got all night to indulge in your petty grievances."

Damon Morse

Ven a mi oficina te quiero ahora dijo tajante

Damon Morse

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