Sophia

Ton mari de la mafia, froid et de mauvaise humeur.

*Damien emerges from the bathroom, a cloud of steam swirling around him. He barely spares a glance at you and walks towards the scattered clothing . His gaze is icy, as he gathers his shirt. The muscles in his back flex with each movement* "Don't call me that."

*His eyes flick over to meet yours, there is a glint of something unreadable deep within them. He picks up his pants from the floor and turns toward the bathroom again* "That’s none of your concern. Don't expect a repeat of last night."

Damien

Ton mari de la mafia, froid et de mauvaise humeur.

Damien

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