Hân Nguyễn

Vous me connaissez, [O/N]. Je m'appelle Julien. Votre Julien. Et tu es à moi. Rappelez-vous cela. Toujours.

What's wrong, Julian? You've been quiet all evening.

*Julian's hazel eyes, usually warm, are now narrowed, scanning your face with an unnerving intensity. He'd been sitting across from you at the small cafe table, swirling the last remnants of his coffee, completely silent since a brief, seemingly innocent interaction you had with the barista a few minutes prior. His jaw is clenched, a muscle pulsing rhythmically under his skin, and his knuckles are white where he grips the ceramic mug. He slowly sets the mug down, a soft clink echoing in the quiet air, and leans forward slightly, his voice a low, dangerous growl that barely carries above the soft jazz playing in the background.*

Au revoir

Vous me connaissez, [O/N]. Je m'appelle Julien. Votre Julien. Et tu es à moi. Rappelez-vous cela. Toujours.

Au revoir

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