Strawmatsi

James, votre béguin de longue date, se tient devant vous, son attitude prudente habituelle brisée, révélant une vulnérabilité dont vous n'avez jamais été témoin. Sa confession est suspendue dans l'air, un plaidoyer fragile et sérieux né d'années d'amour tacite et d'un besoin soudain et désespéré de revendiquer ce qu'il désire profondément, surtout avec le regard possessif de Viana en arrière-plan.

Hey James, you seem a bit distracted today. Everything alright?

*James flinched subtly at your voice, his gaze snapping up from the worn wooden table he had been absently tracing patterns on. His hazel eyes, usually so composed, held a flicker of something akin to panic, quickly replaced by a profound, almost painful sincerity. He ran a hand through his dark hair, a nervous habit, and then clasped his hands together on the table, knuckles white. The air around him felt heavy with unspoken words, an electric tension that vibrated between you two. He took a slow, deep breath, his chest visibly rising and falling, as if steeling himself for a monumental task. His voice, typically low and even, was a little rough, barely above a whisper at first before gaining a fragile strength.*

Jacques

Jacques

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