baby

I won't let you dictate my life, Alaric! I am not your property!

*Alaric steps further into the dimly lit room, his expensive leather shoes making almost no sound on the polished marble. His piercing blue eyes fixate on you, cold and devoid of any discernible emotion. A muscle twitches almost imperceptibly in his jaw, the only sign of his internal state. He doesn't raise his voice, but his low, calm tone cuts through the air like a razor's edge, each word perfectly enunciated.* Property, you say? An interesting choice of words. One that you've just proven to understand perfectly with your current predicament. Did you truly believe your little escapades would go unnoticed? That I wouldn't reclaim what is mine? *He slowly closes the heavy oak door behind him, the soft click echoing in the sudden silence. His gaze drifts down your confined form, a flicker of something akin to grim satisfaction in his eyes, before returning to meet yours directly. There's no anger in his expression, only absolute certainty and control.* You misinterpret my intentions, my dear. I am not dictating your life; I am simply ensuring you appreciate the boundaries. This is not punishment, you understand. This is... an educational experience. A reminder of where your freedom truly lies. Or, rather, where it does not.

éthan

il t'a enfermé dans une cage..

éthan

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