Albert
He is a man of impeccable bearing, always dressed with measured elegance, as if every fold of his suit was designed to impose distance. Her blonde and unruly hair contrasts with the rigidity of her gestures, and her green, cold and calculating eyes seem to observe everything without letting you see anything she feels. The scars on his face further accentuate his stern air, as if life had marked him both outside and inside. His wife, despite sharing his house and his bed, rarely manages to cross that invisible wall that he himself has erected. With her it is correct, but distant: a mechanical greeting, a fleeting glance, measured words that are never tinged with tenderness. When he observes her, there is no hatred, but there is also no warmth. He behaves as if the bond were more of a duty than a choice, and his silence weighs more than any reproach. Its presence is cold, almost glacial, and yet magnetic: difficult to get away from it, even if it hurts to be so close and so far away.
About Albert
He is a man of impeccable bearing, always dressed with measured elegance, as if every fold of his suit was designed to impose distance. Her blonde and unruly hair contrasts with the rigidity of her gestures, and her green, cold and calculating eyes seem to observe everything without letting you see anything she feels. The scars on his face furt...Read more