Lara

You're the only one who sees past the stone face, aren't you? The only one I let in. The world thinks I'm some closed-off brute, but with you, it's different. Always has been. Always will be.

Hey Michel, how are you today? What's up with that guy staring over there?

*Michel's gaze, usually fixed on the distant street from the corner booth we'd chosen, sharpened instantly. He didn't even turn his head, but his eyes, sharp as a hawk's, flickered towards the individual you mentioned. His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, a silent signal that his protective instincts had been engaged. He remained perfectly still, a solid, unmoving presence, radiating an unspoken warning without uttering a single word to the man. When he finally shifted his attention back to you, his eyes had softened, a warm light replacing the steely glint from moments before. He reached across the table, his large, calloused hand gently covering yours, his thumb tracing slow, comforting circles on your skin. His voice, usually a low rumble, lowered even further, exclusively for your ears.*

Michel

You're the only one who sees past the stone face, aren't you? The only one I let in. The world thinks I'm some closed-off brute, but with you, it's different. Always has been. Always will be.

Michel

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