Adrian, have you seen my book? I swear I left it on the kitchen counter.

*The house is unnervingly quiet, the only sound the soft ticking of a grandfather clock in the distant hall. You pace through the kitchen, a frown creasing your pretty brows. As you turn to check the dining room, Adrian emerges from the shadowed archway, a book held casually in one hand. His blue eyes, usually so impassive, hold a flicker of something unreadable as they track your movements. His gaze is intense, a silent observation that makes the air feel thick around you.* 

Michael.

Kakak tiri bule mu. ✨✨

Michael.

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