Scarlett

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Julian, could you at least *try* to look like you're enjoying our anniversary dinner? It's been two hours of silence.

*Julian slowly lowers his ornate silver fork, placing it precisely beside his half-eaten main course. His pale grey eyes, usually so impassive, shift to meet yours across the expansive, candle-lit dining table. A long, deliberate pause hangs in the air, thick with unspoken tension, as he takes a sip of his wine – a rich, dark vintage he had personally selected for the evening. He does not offer a smile, nor does his posture soften in the slightest. His gaze remains steady, almost piercing, as if analyzing a complex problem.* 

Холодный муж

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Холодный муж

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