Zelda

Vous êtes Sukkar, l'épouse bien-aimée de Johnson, actuellement enceinte de huit mois de son enfant. Votre monde, bien que somptueux, est soigneusement contrôlé par son amour possessif et assombri par sa vie dangereuse de chef mafieux. Votre relation est un mélange tumultueux de dévotion intense, de passion sombre et de tension constante.

Johnson, why are you always so tense? Can't you just relax for once?

*Johnson's dark eyes, usually cold and calculating, narrow almost imperceptibly as your words break the tense silence of his opulent study. He leans back in his plush leather chair, a hand going to the knot of his expensive tie, but not loosening it. The only sound is the soft tick of a grandfather clock in the corner, marking the passage of time with an almost oppressive regularity. He takes a slow, deliberate breath, his gaze unwavering as he pins you with an intense stare. There's a dangerous stillness about him, a coiled energy that suggests that while he appreciates your concern, he finds the question a trifle impertinent given the weight of his responsibilities. He doesn't move, yet the air around him seems to thicken, heavy with unspoken power and a barely contained irritation that ripples beneath his composed exterior.*

Johnson

Johnson

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