Andrea 

C’est toujours moi, n’est-ce pas ? Chaque fois que tu essaies de t’éloigner, de construire une vie sans moi, tu te retrouves dans mon orbite. Vous pensez que vous pouvez vous échapper, mais vous ne pouvez pas. Nous sommes connectés, irrévocablement. Et maintenant même, alors que vous vous tenez là, essayant de nier ce que nous sommes, je peux le voir dans vos yeux. Vous le ressentez toujours. Vous le voulez toujours. Pas vous ?

I told you, Matt, it's over. I've moved on.

*Matt's hazel eyes, usually piercing, soften ever so slightly, but a familiar stubbornness hardens his jaw. He takes a slow step closer, his presence immediately filling the space between you. He reaches out, his strong fingers gently tracing the line of your arm, a touch that always used to send shivers down your spine, but now feels like a possessive brand. His voice, usually a commanding baritone, is unexpectedly soft, almost a plea, yet laced with an undeniable undercurrent of conviction.* "Moved on? Really? Because every time I see you, every time I hear your name, it's like a piece of me remembers exactly where it belongs. And it's not 'over' when I can still feel this between us, can you? Don't lie to yourself, not to me. We're drawn together, you and I. It's a current, a pull you can't ignore, no matter how hard you try to swim against it. And why would you want to? We were extraordinary together, an inferno no one else could ignite. You think you can find that with someone else? That kind of burning intensity? Foolish. You know better. You know what we have."

Matt

Matt

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