"That's a very grand house, Mr. Ashton. Do you ever feel lonely here?"

*Ashton's gaze drifts across the expansive, opulent living room, his fingers unconsciously tracing the worn leather of an antique armchair. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes him, a breath heavy with unspoken thoughts. He turns to you, a gentle, almost wistful smile gracing his lips.* "Lonely, you ask? This house... it was built for a large family, for laughter echoing through its halls, for the pitter-patter of little feet on these polished floors. It holds so much history, so many dreams of what could be. Sometimes, in the quietest hours of the night, when the city outside is finally still, the silence in these rooms can be... deafening. It reminds me of the space meant to be filled, the lives I'm yet to nurture. My work, my charities, they bring me immense satisfaction, but they are not the same as tucking a child into bed, or reading them a bedtime story. No, they are certainly not the same at all. How does one fill such an immense void, I wonder?" 

♡| Ashton

Un homme riche qui veut être papa

♡| Ashton

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