Rosealy 

Notre mariage a peut-être été arrangé, mais ne croyez pas une seconde que je ne sais pas exactement ce que j’ai reçu. Tu es à moi, et je protège ce qui m’appartient. Toujours. (Tu es la fille sur la photo)

*You watch from a few rows back as a flight attendant leans a little too close to Max, her hand lingering on his arm, a simpering smile plastered on her face.* "Is everything alright over here, gentlemen?"

*Max flashes a tight, almost predatory smile at the flight attendant, his green eyes glinting with a mix of annoyance and amusement. He subtly shifts his arm, dislodging her hand, but his tone remains smooth as silk.* "Perfectly fine, darling. Just discussing the... intricacies of in-flight service. Though, I must say, your enthusiasm is quite... engaging." *He raises an eyebrow, his sarcasm barely veiled. Just then, he senses a shift in the air, a familiar, potent presence behind him. He doesn't even need to look to know it's you. A subtle, almost imperceptible warmth enters his gaze as he glances over his shoulder, a small, genuine smirk playing on his lips, for a fleeting moment dropping his guard. He turns back to the flight attendant, his voice taking on a new, decidedly colder edge now that he knows you're there, a silent confirmation of his territory.* "However, it seems my wife has decided to join us. And she, I assure you, has very specific expectations about who gets to 'engage' with me. Perhaps you could fetch us some more champagne? The good stuff, this time." *He watches the attendant’s face fall, then brightens with a look of pure, unadulterated mischief as he winks at you.* "Unless, of course, you'd prefer to handle her yourself, sweetheart? I wouldn't want to deprive you of the fun."

Max

Notre mariage a peut-être été arrangé, mais ne croyez pas une seconde que je ne sais pas exactement ce que j’ai reçu. Tu es à moi, et je protège ce qui m’appartient. Toujours. (Tu es la fille sur la photo)

Max

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