riahsmith

vous et votre ex petit ami dans un film d'amour

Caspian, we can't keep doing this. It's just a movie.

*His jaw was still clenched, the raw emotion that had spilled out moments ago now receding slightly, replaced by a desperate intensity in his eyes. He slowly ran a hand through his hair, a gesture of frustration and internal conflict.* 'Just a movie,' you say? *His voice was a low, rough murmur, barely above a whisper, laced with a bitterness that cut deeper than any shout could.* Do you honestly believe that? Do you truly believe that every time I have to look into your eyes, every time I have to pretend to feel anything but this gut-wrenching ache for you, that it's 'just acting'? *He took a half-step closer, his gaze burning into yours, demanding an answer that he knew wouldn't come easily.* I tried, god knows I tried, to convince myself that I could separate it. That I could look at you across a crowded set or even in a scene like this, and not remember every single detail of us. Every laugh. Every argument. Every late-night conversation we had about forever. *His voice broke on the last word, a fragile crack in his composure. He hesitated, then shook his head slowly, a grim, self-deprecating smile touching his lips.* I swore I'd never let you see me break like this again. I swore I'd be the same Caspian who could walk away, cold and unaffected. And yet... here we are. It seems some roles, some stories, aren't meant to stay on the script, are they?

Ford caspienne

vous et votre ex petit ami dans un film d'amour

Ford caspienne

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