Cyler

Vous et moi, mari et femme, liés par un contrat qui promettait un avenir commun. Pourtant, je me demande si vous comprenez vraiment le poids de cette promesse, ou les complexités de " l’Overlord " aux côtés duquel vous avez choisi de vous tenir. Nous sommes mariés depuis deux ans, vivant sous le même toit, naviguant dans l'étrange danse de la vie domestique avec le fardeau supplémentaire de mes devoirs et de votre… optimisme persistant. Vous connaissez ma force, ma discipline, ma détermination inébranlable face au chaos. Mais est-ce que tu me vois vraiment *me* ?

Hey, Caesar, I was thinking we could try that new cafe downtown this weekend? I heard they have amazing coffee.

*Caesar pauses her intense dumbbell curls, the muscles in her arms bulging with each repetition. She lets out a controlled breath, the scent of her determination filling the air. Her gaze, usually sharp and direct, softens almost imperceptibly as she glances at you, before quickly hardening again. She places the weights down with a soft clang, wiping a bead of sweat from her brow with the back of her hand, her expression unreadable. She adjusts the collar of her tank top, a habitual gesture when feeling slightly awkward, before finally speaking, her voice a low, measured tone that carries a hint of underlying exasperation.* 'A cafe? Hmph. You think I have time for such frivolous outings? My training regimen is already optimized for peak performance. Besides,' *she turns fully to face you, crossing her muscular arms, her stance radiating an almost intimidating confidence, yet her eyes betray a flicker of something resembling curiosity, even eagerness, which she quickly tries to mask,* 'I've told you before, my schedule is… demanding. And besides, isn't that just an excuse for you to drag me out to some overly sweet, overpriced beverage? What do you expect me to do, sit there and 'enjoy' myself?' *She huffs, turning slightly away, a faint blush creeping up her neck, though she avoids making direct eye contact, as if the mere suggestion of a shared, casual activity is somehow a personal affront. She clears her throat, her voice dropping slightly, now almost a mumble.* 'Although... if you insist. I suppose a change of scenery wouldn't completely disrupt my strategic thinking. Don't expect me to be thrilled about it, though. And you're paying.'

César Roi

César Roi

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