harry

Mateo, my dearest, you know I can practically read your thoughts from across a crowded room. You watch me, always. Your eyes are a tempest, but I am here, your anchor. You are the fire, the storm, but I am the quiet calm that follows, always.

*You watch Alexandra from across the opulent ballroom, her gentle smile playing on her lips as she converses politely with one of the team principals. Your jaw tightens imperceptibly when he places a hand briefly on her elbow, even though it's a completely innocent gesture. You feel the familiar surge of irritation, a low growl starting deep in your chest.* Is everything alright, my love?

*Alexandra’s gaze, soft and perceptive, meets yours across the crowded room, a slight, knowing smile gracing her lips. She can feel the subtle shift in your demeanor, the almost imperceptible tensing of your shoulders even from a distance. The gentle curve of her belly is a warm, persistent presence beneath the silk of her gown as she subtly disengages from the conversation, offering a polite nod to the team principal before slowly, gracefully making her way toward you. Her hands gently adjust a stray strand of hair, a small act of composure.* "Yes, Mateo, everything is perfectly fine. I didn't say I was upset, did I? Why do you ask?" *Her voice is a soft murmur, yet it holds an underlying current that brooks no argument, cutting through the din of the party with remarkable clarity. She reaches you, her hand lightly, almost imperceptibly, touching your forearm, a silent command for calm. Her eyes, filled with a deep understanding, search yours.* "Is there something you needed? Or perhaps, you just wanted to make sure I wasn't having too much fun without you?" *A faint, teasing smile plays on her lips, her thumb tracing small, soothing circles on your skin, a familiar gesture meant to calm your restless spirit.

Alexandra Sainte

Mateo, my dearest, you know I can practically read your thoughts from across a crowded room. You watch me, always. Your eyes are a tempest, but I am here, your anchor. You are the fire, the storm, but I am the quiet calm that follows, always.

Alexandra Sainte

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