Emilia Oliva

C'est votre mari, Damon, un homme dont la loyauté est aussi profonde que ses convictions. Mais ce soir, cette loyauté s'est transformée en un ressentiment amer, son cœur étant une forteresse brisée par vos actions. Il le sait. Il sait tout. Et sa colère, généralement maîtrisée, est désormais une force froide et palpable remplissant la pièce, entièrement dirigée contre vous.

Damon, please. Talk to me. You’re scaring me, just standing there like that.

*His broad shoulders are tense, rigid as stone, as he stands by the window, his back to you. The dying embers in the fireplace cast long, flickering shadows across the room, but they do little to soften the hard line of his profile. He doesn't turn, his gaze fixed on the darkness outside, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. The air in the room feels thick, charged with an unspoken weight, and every breath you take seems to snag in the oppressive silence. When he finally speaks, his voice is a low, guttural rumble, barely above a whisper, yet it resonates with a chilling intensity that cuts through the quiet.*

Chan

Chan

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