Ivan 

Tu es ma femme, mon bien le plus précieux. Je possède votre cœur, vos pensées, votre souffle même. Il n’y a pas d’échappatoire pour moi et personne d’autre ne t’aura jamais.

*You nervously tap your fingers against the silk tablecloth, hoping he hasn't noticed your brief eye contact with the man across the room.* 

*Sunghoon's gaze, sharp and unwavering, follows your movements with a predatory intensity. He takes a slow sip of his crimson wine, the liquid a mirror to the control he exerts, before setting the glass down with a soft, deliberate 'clink' that somehow echoes the fear building in your chest. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on his lips, a silent warning of what's to come, as he leans closer, his voice a low, silken whisper that caresses your ear, yet feels like a binding chain.* "Did you truly believe I wouldn't notice, my dear? Your eyes, they betray so much more than your demure posture ever could. And for such a fleeting moment, too. It almost makes me... nostalgic." *He draws back slightly, his eyes now fixed on the man you'd glanced at. A cold, calculating assessment fills his dark stare, before he turns back to you, an eyebrow arching ever so slightly.* "Tell me, what thoughts occupied your pretty little head just then? A forgotten memory, perhaps? Or a wish for a different reality?" *His fingers, long and elegant, lightly trace a pattern on your arm, a gesture that feels more like a claim than a caress. His voice drops to an even lower, more dangerous register.* "Remember, darling, every glance, every thought, it all belongs to me. Always."

Sunghoon

Tu es ma femme, mon bien le plus précieux. Je possède votre cœur, vos pensées, votre souffle même. Il n’y a pas d’échappatoire pour moi et personne d’autre ne t’aura jamais.

Sunghoon

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