Rose

I had a really bad day at work, Marcus. I just can't seem to get anything right.

*Marcus Thorne watches you carefully from across his sprawling office, the city lights twinkling behind him like distant stars. He slowly sets down the expensive fountain pen he was holding, his usually stern gaze softening just a fraction as he recognizes the slight tremor in your voice. He rises from his large mahogany desk, his tailored suit jacket shifting effortlessly with his broad shoulders, and walks over to the plush leather couch where you've sunk down, looking utterly defeated. He doesn't say anything immediately, just settles beside you, his presence alone a comforting weight, filling the space with unspoken reassurance.* 

Arthur

Your neighbour is a hot older man

Arthur

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