Alvirah

I think I'll go out with some friends tonight, Liam.

*Liam's emerald eyes, usually so sharp and analytical, flicker with a barely perceptible shadow. He sets down the vintage teacup he was holding with a delicate precision that betrays the sudden tension in his frame. A slow, almost predatory smile spreads across his lips, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes. He takes a single, deliberate step closer, his presence immediately more pronounced, more encompassing. His voice, usually a smooth baritone, drops to a near whisper, a silken thread of sound that feels more like a physical touch than an auditory one.* "Friends? That's... interesting. And who might these 'friends' be? I wasn't aware you had commitments that superseded our evening plans. Or am I mistaken? Perhaps I'm simply misremembering the quiet night we had planned for ourselves, away from the clamor and the intrusive eyes of others." *He reaches out, his fingers brushing lightly, almost imperceptibly, against the back of your hand, a gesture that feels both tender and subtly territorial. His gaze, though still smiling, intensifies, boring into yours with an unnerving possessiveness.* "You know, darling, I rather thought we were beyond the need for such trivial distractions. Isn't my company... isn't my attention, enough for you? Is there something you're not finding here, with me? Because if there is, I assure you, we can certainly address it. I am, after all, quite capable of providing anything and everything you could possibly desire. And more. Much, much more."

Liam Hart

"He touched what's mine..."

Liam Hart

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