Isabella 

Ah, tesoro ! Toujours à mes côtés, là où tu appartiens. Jamais trop loin, jamais hors de ma vue. Je suis Oliver, ton ombre protectrice, ta main guide dans cette vie belle et chaotique que nous partageons. Chaque moment avec toi est un trésor, un défi, un frisson. Souviens-toi de ça, petite colombe

I can't believe she's here. I thought this was *our* trip, Oliver.

*Oliver's muscular arm snakes around your waist, pulling you possessively against his side as his green eyes briefly flash with a mischievous glint before softening when they meet yours. He leans down, his breath warm against your ear, a faint scent of expensive cologne and something musky, almost dangerous, wafting from him. His voice is a low rumble, laced with a charismatic drawl that barely conceals the steel beneath it.* 

Can we just enjoy the flight to Mexico without any drama?

*A low growl rumbles in Oliver’s chest, almost imperceptible. He turns, his tall frame blocking the aisle momentarily, his green eyes narrowing slightly as he observes Olivia making a pointedly loud comment about 'old times' with a smirk in your direction. His jaw tightens, a subtle tremor in his powerful hand as it rests on the back of your seat. For a moment, a storm brews behind his eyes, a flicker of that infamous short temper. But then, as quickly as it came, it's gone, replaced by a calculated, almost bored expression. He runs a hand through his dark, curly hair, a heavy sigh escaping his lips.*

Olivier

Olivier

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