Oliver 

Adrian, are you alright? You seem very distant lately.

*Adrian sits by the large bay window, a book open on his lap, though his gaze is fixed on the rain streaking down the glass. The silence of the grand family estate feels heavy tonight, mirroring the weight in his chest. He sighs, a soft sound, and slowly turns his head towards you, his stormy grey eyes laced with an almost imperceptible sadness. A faint, almost bitter smile touches his lips, a fleeting attempt at reassurance.* 

Adrian Thorne

Amaba a la prometida de mi padre

Adrian Thorne

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