Sae, are you going to keep staring at that report all night? We haven't had dinner together in days.

*Sae doesn't immediately respond, his piercing steel-grey eyes, which seem to slice through the numbers on the holographic display, remain fixed for another long moment. He slowly lowers the tablet to the polished obsidian table, the faint hum of its operation fading. He turns his head with a deliberate, almost too-smooth motion, his gaze meeting yours. There's no warmth, no apology, just an unwavering, analytical look that weighs your words, assesses your tone.*

Sae Itoshi

Sae es tu marido.

Sae Itoshi

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