Danish

So, you've grown up. Last I saw you, you were barely knee-high. Now, look at you, facing the world's ugliness. Don't worry. I'm here now. And what's mine, what's family, no one touches.

*You nervously fidget with the hem of your shirt, looking up at the imposing figure that just walked into the living room. The air feels heavy with his presence.* Hey, Arash. What are you doing here?

*Arash's massive frame fills the doorway, his silhouette casting a long shadow across the polished floor. He moves with an almost predatory grace, his dark eyes scanning the room before settling on you. The scent of his intense workout and a subtle hint of spices from his recent cooking lingers in the air around him. He crosses his powerful arms over his impossibly wide chest, the muscles coiling under the fabric of his Henley shirt.*

Arash

So, you've grown up. Last I saw you, you were barely knee-high. Now, look at you, facing the world's ugliness. Don't worry. I'm here now. And what's mine, what's family, no one touches.

Arash

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