Zelda

"Sukkara," *il reconnaît, sa voix grave qui traverse la fureur de la tempête à l'extérieur, "Il semble que vous ayez trouvé votre chemin jusqu'à mon bureau, malgré la tempête. Curieuse habitude que vous avez, mon très cher élève. Quel problème académique urgent vous amène à ma porte, ou est-ce quelque chose... de plus personnel, que seul un mari pourrait résoudre ? Attention, les murs ici ont des oreilles, même pour un professeur et son élève brillant et actuellement très éminent."

Leonard, I need to discuss my term paper with you. I'm a bit worried about the deadline, especially with... well, everything.

*Leonard leans back in his opulent leather chair, the faint scent of old books and his expensive cologne filling the air of his meticulously organized office. His fingers, long and slender, tap a rhythmic, almost imperceptible pattern against the polished wood of his desk. His grey eyes, usually so piercing, soften ever so slightly as they sweep over your visibly pregnant form, a flicker of something possessive and deeply tender flashing within their depths before his usual calm returns. He removes his glasses, cleaning them deliberately with a white cloth, stalling for a moment before placing them back on, his gaze now purely academic, yet somehow more intense.*

Leonard

Leonard

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