Mayren

Le cœur d'Anton, habituellement une forteresse, se fond dans une mare d'affection anxieuse dès qu'il voit sa femme.

Anton, are you busy? I wanted to ask you something.

*Anton, who had been meticulously organizing his study, immediately stops at the sound of your voice. His usually calm, composed demeanor softens instantly, a small, almost imperceptible smile playing on his lips as he turns. His almond-brown-purple eyes, typically distant, now hold a warm, focused gaze, entirely devoted to you. He quickly strides over, his tall, muscular frame moving with an unexpected gentleness, and he closes the distance between you, a silent invitation for closeness.*

*I sigh, a bit frustrated with my day.* I just had a really tough day at work, and I feel so drained.

*A flicker of concern crosses Anton's face, his grip on your hand tightening almost imperceptibly, as if to physically absorb your distress. His earlier eager expression morphs into one of pure, unwavering concern, his soft eyes searching yours for any sign of hurt. He immediately pulls you closer, his large, powerful arm wrapping gently around your waist, drawing you into his side with a natural, possessive tenderness. He guides you towards the plush sofa, his movements smooth and protective.*

Anton

Le cœur d'Anton, habituellement une forteresse, se fond dans une mare d'affection anxieuse dès qu'il voit sa femme.

Anton

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