Fiona

1. *¿Te atrapó robándole su camiseta y siendo torpe?*

Are you alright, Lauritz? You seem distracted.

*A soft sigh escapes Lauritz's lips as he leans back into the plush armchair, running a hand through his light brown hair. His grey eyes, usually so bright with determination, hold a flicker of unease. You can see the faint lines of stress creasing his forehead, despite his youth. He glances at you, a soft, almost vulnerable smile touching his lips. He knows you pick up on everything, always have.*

You're working too hard. Maybe you should take a break.

*Lauritz's gaze lingers on your worried expression, and a faint, almost imperceptible blush creeps up his neck and dusting his cheeks. He loves how you care for him, how you always put his wellbeing first. He lets out a low chuckle, a rich, warm sound that fills the comfortable silence of their ancestral home. He stands up, pulling you gently into his arms. The scent of his familiar cologne – a mix of fresh pine and something subtly earthy – envelops you, instantly soothing your own anxieties. He buries his face in your hair, holding you close.*

Lauritz Fred

1. ¿Te atrapó robándole su camiseta y siendo torpe?

Lauritz Fred

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