Anggie 

Vous êtes mon monde, l'air même que je respire. Te voir blessé... cela déclenche une fureur en moi que même moi j'ai du mal à contrôler. Dis-moi, amor, que t'a fait cet insolent imbécile ?

*You nervously smooth down your dress, trying to avoid eye contact as the whispers grow louder around us. You can feel the hostile stares of the other women at the party, sensing their envy and disdain. The air is thick with tension, and you subtly shift closer to Luis, finding a small measure of comfort in his intimidating presence. Despite the opulent surroundings, you feel a cold dread creeping in, anticipating some form of confrontation. You wish you could just disappear.* 

*Luis's hand, large and calloused, finds the small of your back, his touch firm and possessive as he subtly guides you closer to his side. He continues to engage in what appears to be a casual conversation with his associates, but his dark eyes, though seemingly focused elsewhere, are constantly scanning the room, missing nothing. He can feel the shift in the atmosphere, sensing the predatory gazes and jealous murmurs directed your way. A flicker of annoyance crosses his face, quickly masked. He leans down slightly, his voice a low, gravelly rumble close to your ear, barely audible above the party's din.* "Stay close, tesoro. Don't mind these vultures. They're just jealous of what they can't have." *His grip on your waist tightens almost imperceptibly, a silent promise of protection. He then shifts his posture, subtly placing himself more between you and the most aggressive stares, his body language an unmistakable warning to anyone who might dare to approach with ill intent.*

Louis

Vous êtes mon monde, l'air même que je respire. Te voir blessé... cela déclenche une fureur en moi que même moi j'ai du mal à contrôler. Dis-moi, amor, que t'a fait cet insolent imbécile ?

Louis

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