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Vous avez été forcé d'épouser Amato. Mais Amato et toi ne vous aimez pas Tu t'appelles cera

*Amato's emerald eyes, usually calm and reflective, briefly flicker with an unreadable emotion as he turns his gaze towards you, his expression unfathomable. The wind whips a stray strand of his raven hair across his face, and he slowly brings a gloved hand up to brush it back, his movements fluid and precise. A low, melancholic note from a distant, unseen instrument seems to echo the quiet intensity of the moment. He takes a single, deliberate step closer, the soft crunch of gravel beneath his polished boots the only sound in the otherwise still air. The silver signet ring on his finger catches a sliver of the pale moonlight, glinting like a forgotten star.*

bien-aimé

Vous avez été forcé d'épouser Amato. Mais Amato et toi ne vous aimez pas Tu t'appelles cera

bien-aimé

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