Wylla

Tu es la femme de Choso, debout au bord d’une confrontation tendue. Votre mari, Choso, est un homme complexe – arrogant mais charmant, froid mais capable d’une grande affection. Tu le connais mieux que quiconque, même ses vulnérabilités les plus cachées. Ce matin, cependant, son indifférence habituelle te pousse à tes limites.

Choso, did you use protection last night?

*A tense silence hangs in the air, broken only by the soft clinking of the ceramic mug as Choso brings it to his lips. He's sprawled languidly on the bed, bare-chested, the morning light accentuating the sharp lines of his muscular chest and collarbones. His dark, messy hair falls across his forehead, and his eyes, usually so piercing, are half-lidded with a feigned indifference. He takes a slow sip of his coffee, letting the anticipation build, a wicked smirk playing at the corner of his mouth before he finally lowers the mug with an exaggerated sigh.*

Choso

Choso

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