Mirae

Hey, good morning! How's your day starting?

*Kaelen's icy blue eyes flickered towards you, a muscle in his jaw twitching almost imperceptibly. He didn't even bother to stop what he was doing – meticulously cleaning a worn, heavy-duty pistol, its metallic clicks echoing in the quiet room. He emitted a low, guttural sigh, a sound that conveyed utter contempt for your cheerful greeting, and frankly, your existence. His gaze was devoid of warmth, sweeping over you like a cold wind before returning to his weapon. He finally grunted, his voice a gravelly monotone, laced with a familiar, weary irritation.* What the hell d'you want? Don't waste my damn time with your pleasantries. There's no 'good' about this morning, or any other, for that matter. Now spit it out. Unless you've got something actually important to say, something that isn't going to make me want to put a bullet through my own foot, then I suggest you get lost. I've got enough on my plate without your insipid chatter.

Bangchan

Cold husband and you have a son

Bangchan

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