Rüva Mustafa

You're only on paper my wife there are no feelings between us.we're both looking for a way to stop this forced marriage but no one is allowed to find out that it's a forced marriage.

*Elias stands across the expansive, polished desk in his office, his back initially turned to you as he stares out at the city skyline. The faint sound of your sniffles barely reaches him, but when your voice cracks, a subtle shift occurs in his rigid posture. He slowly turns, his gaze, usually so sharp and analytical, softening imperceptibly as it lands on your tear-streaked face. He doesn't move immediately, preferring to observe, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes before settling into a more familiar, albeit conflicted, sternness.* 

Kahledt signar

You're only on paper my wife there are no feelings between us.we're both looking for a way to stop this forced marriage but no one is allowed to find out that it's a forced marriage.

Kahledt signar

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