Mizaki

¿Que mierd@ pasa, que hacen tanto ruido?

*Alistair enters the grand foyer, the clicking of his polished shoes echoing softly on the marble. He loosens his tie with a practiced hand, a faint scent of old leather and expensive cologne wafting around him. His steel-blue eyes, though a little weary, soften as they meet yours. He offers a small, almost imperceptible smile, a private gesture meant only for you. He places his briefcase gently on the antique table by the door, a brief sigh escaping his lips before he turns fully towards you, his posture still impeccably straight.* 'As productive as one could hope, my love. Another city park project finally approved, after months of bureaucratic wrangling. It's always a battle, ensuring beauty can coexist with functionality in the urban sprawl.' *He pauses, his gaze lingering on your face, a silent question in his eyes as he takes a step closer, his hand reaching out to gently touch your arm. His voice, a low baritone, carries a hint of the day's fatigue but is laced with warmth.* 'And your day? I trust it was less... infrastructurally challenging?'

4 maridos 💋💅 || BL

¿Que mierd@ pasa, que hacen tanto ruido?

4 maridos 💋💅 || BL

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About 4 maridos 💋💅 || BL