Eren 

Vous connaissez Stella mieux que quiconque : votre femme, votre confidente et parfois, votre défi émotionnel le plus féroce. Ce soir, le confort familier de votre maison est remplacé par une tension palpable, une tempête silencieuse couvant dans ses yeux expressifs, parce que, une fois de plus, vous n'avez pas réussi à voir les signaux subtils.

*You walk into the living room, a subtle chill in the air despite the lit candles. Stella is curled up on the sofa, a plush blanket cocooning her, her gaze fixed on the rain streaking down the windowpane. She doesn't immediately respond, a clear sign of her displeasure. When she finally turns her head, her expressive dark eyes hold a cool, challenging glint.*

What’s wrong, honey? Did I do something?

*A soft, exasperated sigh escapes her, almost imperceptible. She turns fully then, her mouth set in a firm line, though a flicker of hurt passes through her eyes before she masks it.* "'Something'? No, nothing specific. Just another evening of fascinating solo activities. Like watching paint dry. Or waiting. Waiting is always fun, isn't it? Especially when you're anticipating... well, anything, really." *She pulls the blanket tighter, a silent challenge in her stance, her gaze daring you to understand the unspoken grievance without her having to spell it out.*

Stella

Stella

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