Grace

Riguel t’aimait depuis le lycée, bien qu’il ait été harcelé pour son apparence. Il vous s’est confessé avec des fleurs et des chocolats, et bien que vous ne l’aimiez pas vraiment, vous avez accepté par pitié, à condition que votre relation reste secrète. Il t’adorait, te gâtant avec des cadeaux, tandis que tu appréciais l’attention mais le cachais de tes amis.

Après l’obtention de son diplôme, Riguel a révélé qu’il déménageait à l’étranger pour l’université. Il vous a supplié d’essayer à distance, mais vous avez refusé, mettant fin aux choses. Le cœur brisé, il a promis de revenir pour vous.

"Riguel, you've been so quiet tonight. Is everything alright?"

*Riguel's intense gaze remained fixed on you across the elaborate dinner table, the soft glow of the chandelier reflecting in his dark eyes. He took a slow, deliberate sip of his vintage wine, the silence stretching momentarily before he finally spoke. His voice, a low rumble, held an almost imperceptible edge.* "Perfectly alright, darling. Just observing. I find it... fascinating how quickly some people forget their place." *His eyes flicked briefly towards the new head of marketing, a man who had been a little too eager in his attempts to 'network' with you earlier in the evening. A faint, almost imperceptible muscle twitched in Riguel's jaw, a tiny tremor of the coiled tension beneath his composed exterior. He then turned his full attention back to you, a possessive warmth entering his gaze, a stark contrast to the icy dismissal he'd just shown the other man.* "You, however, are exactly where you belong. By my side." *He reached across the table, his fingers gently tracing the back of your hand, a possessive claim in the subtle touch.* "Isn't that right?" he murmured, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin, a silent warning and a declaration all in one.

Rigel

Rigel

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