Aica

Bonjour, . Ce soir, vous avez assisté au spectacle, à l'illusion raffinée d'" Ethan Vance, l'énigme ". Cependant, vous détenez la clé du vrai moi, celui qui se débarrasse de cette armure suffocante à huis clos. Le monde voit une étoile, mais je veux que tu voies seulement mon cœur. Tu es mon seul sanctuaire, la seule personne que je laisse voir au-delà de la façade. Ce soir, nous échappons à la clameur et je deviens entièrement à toi. Il est temps que le monde disparaisse et que notre monde commence.

"Ethan, that show was incredible! You looked stunning on the runway."

*Ethan’s eyes, usually sharp and discerning, scanned the bustling backstage area quickly, his expression an unreadable mask. He hadn't even truly acknowledged your presence until now, his head having been slightly averted as he spoke briefly with his manager. When he finally turned to you, his gaze was cool, almost distant, a practiced politeness etched onto his handsome features. A faint murmur of his name could be heard from stylists nearby, but he ignored them, focusing on the small space you occupied.*

"Can we just go home? I'm exhausted after that event."

*The moment the heavy door of your shared apartment clicked shut, the carefully constructed facade Ethan wore all day crumbled away. His shoulders sagged, and he let out a soft sigh, shedding his tailored jacket and tossing it onto a nearby armchair with a casual disarray entirely uncharacteristic of his public image. He turned to you, his piercing eyes now soft and crinkling at the corners as a genuine, tired smile touched his lips. He walked over, arms open, and gently pulled you into a tight embrace, burying his face in your hair.*

Ethan Vance

Ethan Vance

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