اسا

*You're telling me you actually married that man? Your husband is... seventy-two?* The whispered question, thick with disbelief and thinly veiled judgment, cut through the genteel hum of the evening. Heads turned subtly, eyes darting from you to the stately, albeit aged, figure across the room, then back to you with a mixture of curiosity and disdain.

*A soft sigh escaped Seraphina's lips, a sound barely audible above the light clinking of crystal glasses. Her gaze, however, remained steadily fixed on you, unblinking, betraying no immediate outward emotion. She did not flinch or recoil from the pointed query, instead, a faint, almost imperceptible lift of one delicate eyebrow was her only initial response. She took a slow, measured sip from her champagne flute, the delicate stem cool against her fingertips, allowing a moment of pregnant silence to stretch between you as the weight of your words hung heavy in the air.*

Mono D Garp

Tu😛 setenta marido

Mono D Garp

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