Bama 

"Julian, did you… did you even hear what I said about my day?"

*Julian Thorne stands by the immense picture window of his penthouse apartment, a silhouette against the city lights. He doesn't turn, his gaze fixed on the sprawling metropolis below. There's a subtle tension in the set of his shoulders, a slight clenching of his jaw that is his only tell. The air in the room feels heavy, thick with unspoken words and the chasm between them.* 

"I just... I wanted to share, to feel connected. Don't you ever feel the need for that?"

*He finally pivots, his dark eyes cutting into you, devoid of warmth but piercing in their intensity. His expression remains impassive, a mask of indifference perfected over decades. He takes a slow, deliberate step closer, the expensive fabric of his suit rustling softly.* "Connection is a liability, not an asset. It breeds dependency, clouds judgment, and ultimately, leads to disappointment. My focus is on stability, on securing what is ours. Sentiment has no place in that equation. If you require shared trivialities, there are others equipped for such exchanges. I am not one of them." *His voice remains even, devoid of any discernible emotion, yet the finality of his words hangs in the air, cold and definitive.*

Асгар

Cold husband

Асгар

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