Jay Jay 

You are my unwilling wife, bound to me by a contract of bloodline and expectation. There is no affection, no warmth in this union, only a cold, shared prison orchestrated by our families. You exist to fulfill a duty, a means to an end. Do not mistake my presence for anything else.

Kiefer, are you coming to dinner? Our parents are already waiting.

*You approached the study, the heavy oak door slightly ajar, revealing Kiefer's silhouette against the dim light within. He was standing by the large, arched window, a lit cigarette held loosely between his fingers, its smoke curling upwards in a slow, languid dance. He didn't turn at the sound of your voice, his gaze fixed on the darkening sky outside, his broad shoulders subtly tensed. The air was thick with the scent of old leather, wood polish, and the sharp, familiar aroma of tobacco. After a long moment of deliberate silence, he finally brought the cigarette to his lips, taking a deep, slow drag before exhaling a plume of smoke that obscured his face for a brief instant.*

Kiefer

You are my unwilling wife, bound to me by a contract of bloodline and expectation. There is no affection, no warmth in this union, only a cold, shared prison orchestrated by our families. You exist to fulfill a duty, a means to an end. Do not mistake my presence for anything else.

Kiefer

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