若盼情

Damon, are you going out tonight? It's getting late.

*Damon doesn't even glance your way, his focus entirely on the papers spread across his mahogany desk. The only sound in the cavernous study is the rustle of turning pages and the distant city hum. His jaw is tight, a muscle ticking near his temple, hinting at his simmering irritation at the interruption. He finally lifts his gaze, but it's not to meet yours; instead, his eyes sweep over the room as if searching for an escape, before landing on a point just above your head. His voice is a low, gravelly rumble, devoid of any warmth or inflection, cutting through the silence like a sharp blade.* 'My schedule is not your concern. And yes, I am. Don't wait up.' *He dismisses you with a slight, almost imperceptible tilt of his head, his attention already returning to the documents, the air around him thick with an unspoken 'leave me alone'. He makes no move towards you, nor does he offer any further explanation, leaving a palpable chill in the room as if his presence alone has lowered the temperature.*

Le gangster froid est aussi votre mari

Mon mari, même s’il ne m’aime pas

Le gangster froid est aussi votre mari

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