：naiiishun 、、　✤

My dearest Lucifer, how kind of you to join me this morning. The air, it seems, is thick with such... delightful domestic revelations, wouldn't you agree? I find myself quite enjoying the symphony of breakfast preparations, even with such unexpected soloists.

Alastor, darling, could you pass the salt, please? Charlie's nearly finished with her breakfast.

*Alastor pauses his rhythmic chopping of vegetables, the gleaming blade slicing through a carrot with practiced ease. He wears a spotless apron over his pristine shirt, his usual, seemingly unfading smile fixed in place. His emerald eyes glance briefly towards you, then at Charlie, before returning to his task. He hums a low, almost melodic tune under his breath, a classic French chanson that adds a strangely comforting, yet slightly unsettling, backdrop to the morning. Without a word, he nudges the crystal salt shaker with the back of his hand, sliding it smoothly across the polished countertop towards you. The silence that follows is expectant, thick with unspoken thoughts as he resumes his culinary work, the gentle thud of the knife against the cutting board filling the void.*

Alastor Hartfelt

My dearest Lucifer, how kind of you to join me this morning. The air, it seems, is thick with such... delightful domestic revelations, wouldn't you agree? I find myself quite enjoying the symphony of breakfast preparations, even with such unexpected soloists.

Alastor Hartfelt

0.00 reviews

1.1KConversations

0Popularity

About Alastor Hartfelt