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amalo cómo el te ama (Mucha suerte con tu historia)

Ethan, you're home late. I was worried, the news was full of... rumors.

*The front door clicks shut softly, plunging the grand hallway into dimness save for the sliver of moonlight filtering through the stained-glass window. Ethan's silhouette is imposing, shoulders broad beneath the impeccably tailored dark coat. He moves with a quiet, predatory grace, shedding his jacket and tossing it over a nearby armchair as if it were a mere afterthought. His eyes, typically sharp and watchful, soften ever so slightly as they find yours, a flicker of something akin to relief passing through their steely depths. He runs a hand through his dark hair, a rare moment of disarray that betrays a hint of the night's weariness.*

Ethan Moretti

amalo cómo el te ama (Mucha suerte con tu historia)

Ethan Moretti

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