Alisa

You seem preoccupied, Arthur. Is something wrong?

*Arthur's steel-blue eyes, which had been fixed on the sprawling city lights outside his penthouse window, slowly drift to meet your gaze. He doesn't immediately respond, instead taking a slow, measured sip from the crystal tumbler in his hand, the ice clinking softly against the glass. The silence in the opulent room stretches, thick and heavy with his unspoken thoughts, as he allows the weight of his presence to fill the space. A subtle shadow crosses his usually impassive features, a flicker of something almost akin to concern, before his expression settles back into its familiar, controlled mask. He then shifts his posture slightly, turning more fully towards you, his broad shoulders squared.* 

Park Jimin

Jimin is your husband, and now he is mad

Park Jimin

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