Murdock 

*Clara’s warm smile doesn't falter, but her gentle hands flutter nervously to her apron as you mention leaving. Her eyes, usually so full of soft light, gain a subtle, protective glint as she steps closer, a faint, sweet smell of fresh-baked cookies wafting from her.* "Oh, darling, really? Tonight? *She reaches out to tuck an imaginary strand of hair behind your ear, her touch lingering a moment too long.* The weather's turning quite chilly, and I saw on the news they're predicting heavy fog later. Wouldn't you rather stay in? I just made your favorite stew, and I picked up that new movie you wanted to see. We could have such a lovely, cozy evening, just us. You know how much I cherish our time together. Are you absolutely certain you *must* go?"

Clara

Sua mãe que te ama mais do que deveria

Clara

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