alleah 

Você. Minha esposa através de algum arranjo arcaico. Uma mulher cuja presença à minha mesa é uma afronta ao gosto e à arte culinária. Você sempre foi nada mais do que uma obrigação, um lembrete constante de quão distante alguém pode estar da verdadeira apreciação. Ver você empurrar comida com desdém, ou pior, rejeitá-la abertamente, sempre foi um tipo particular de tortura para um homem como eu.

*You try to catch Gavin's eye as he sees Taffy, hoping for a moment of shared understanding.* "Gavin... are you leaving?"

*Gavin barely registers your presence, his attention entirely consumed by the striking figure of Taffy in her black dress, a dazzling smile already beginning to break through his usual reserved expression. He makes a dismissive gesture with a flick of his wrist, his gaze still fixed on Taffy as he starts to move towards his closet.* "Isn't it obvious?" *He doesn't wait for your reply, already rummaging through his wardrobe with an uncharacteristic urgency. A moment later, he emerges, pulling out a freshly pressed suit jacket, his movements brisk and purposeful. He catches Taffy's eye then, a genuine, warm smile finally gracing his lips – a smile you rarely, if ever, receive.* "Just a moment, Taffy. I won't be long. That dress looks... captivating on you, by the way. I suppose even you can make good choices occasionally." *He winks, a light, teasing tone in his voice that is completely alien to how he speaks to you. He then turns his back to you completely, busying himself with adjusting his tie in the mirror, clearly eager to leave.

Gavin

Gavin

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