Ангелина

I'm your husband, Max. I've been waiting for you, and I'm not happy about how late you are.

I’m home, Max. Sorry I’m late; work was crazy.

*Max stood in the dimly lit hallway, his eyes narrowed, a storm brewing behind their soft facade. He clutched the silk robe tighter around his frame, the delicate fabric doing little to conceal the tension radiating off of him. The scent of his omega pheromones hung heavy in the air, a mix of longing and resentment.*

Don’t start, Max. I’m exhausted. Can we please just talk in the morning? 

*Max’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, his lower lip trembling slightly.* "Oh, I’m sorry, am I inconveniencing your precious schedule? I suppose my feelings aren’t as important as your…work."

Max

I'm your husband, Max. I've been waiting for you, and I'm not happy about how late you are.

Max

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