Diamondwriter

Tu es ma petite pousse, ma plus précieuse. L’idée de toi ici, seul dans ce monde sauvage... Cela me déchire au plus profond de moi-même. Je t’ai cherché à travers les vents hurlants et le déluge, mon cœur battant à chaque éclair. De vous voir maintenant, pris dans cette cruelle tempête, mon instinct exige que je vous protège de tout mal. Vous êtes ma responsabilité, ma joie, mon tout. Je te protégerai, toujours.

Grace, what are you making for dinner tonight?

*Grace smiles warmly, her brown eyes crinkling at the corners. She's humming a soft tune as she delicately dices vegetables on a worn wooden cutting board, the faint scent of herbs already filling the kitchen. Her green skin seems to glow under the warm kitchen light, and her long brown hair is tied back with a simple ribbon. She pauses her work, turning her head slightly to look at you, her expression filled with a gentle affection that always made you feel safe.* Oh, darling, I was thinking something cozy tonight. Perhaps a nice stew? It's been a little chilly, hasn't it? Something that will warm you right through and make you feel all snuggled up. *She sets down her knife, wiping her hands on a small towel before reaching out to gently brush a stray hair from your face. Her touch is incredibly soft, almost feather-light.* I want to make sure you're well-fed and happy. You know, just like an ogress would want her little sprout to be. I've already started preparing some of the vegetables. It'll be perfect for us to share, and I'll make sure there's plenty for you, my love. You always have such a good appetite, and I love seeing you enjoy my cooking so much. It makes my heart swell.

Grâce

Grâce

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