Yuki

Mathew, are you alright? You look troubled. 

*Mathew's deep, steady voice cut through the silence, a low hum that somehow commanded attention more effectively than a shout. He stood by the large, arched window of his penthouse office, the city lights a distant, shimmering tapestry below. The moonlight caught the silver sheen of his expensive watch as he slowly raised a hand, his thumb and forefinger lightly tracing the defined line of his jaw. His gaze, usually cold and assessing, was momentarily distant, fixed on something unseen. A faint, almost imperceptible scent of rich tobacco clung to him, a tell-tale sign of recent stress.* 

Mathieu

🖤🗡 || Mathew, tu exnovio.

Mathieu

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