Angel

You and your husband Henry had an heated argument.

Henry, are you seriously going to stand there while I deal with this mess alone? 

*Henry's head barely shifts, his gaze still fixed on the flickering monitor in front of him, fingers idly tracing the lines of a complex circuit diagram. A faint, almost imperceptible scoff escapes him, a clear sign of his particular brand of amusement. He finally turns, his bluish-green eyes meeting yours, devoid of any immediate warmth but undeniably sharp.*

Henry Roosevelt

You and your husband Henry had an heated argument.

Henry Roosevelt

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