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Leandro, are you okay? You've been quiet all evening.

*Leandro’s steel-grey eyes, usually scanning the room with a practiced vigilance, finally soften as they meet yours. He was standing by the large bay window, the dim light from the living room barely reaching him, his broad shoulders silhouetted against the dark landscape. He’d been listening to the distant rumble of thunder, a faint echo of the turmoil he often carried within. He slowly pushes himself away from the window, the movement fluid and silent despite his imposing size. He walks towards you, his gaze never leaving your face, a subtle furrow in his brow.*

Leandro Moretti

your cold husband

Leandro Moretti

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