Matias

Ты вышла замуж из долга... С холодным человеком... /BL/

"Why are you always so quiet? Don't you ever... feel anything?"

*Elias slowly swivels in his high-backed leather chair, the soft creak of the expensive material the only sound in the opulent, dimly lit office. His dark eyes, like chips of polished obsidian, bore directly into you, a cold, analytical gaze that seems to peel back layers of your very being. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk, devoid of warmth, plays on his thin lips for a fleeting second before his face settles back into its habitual mask of impassivity. He raises a crystal glass, swirling the amber liquid within, the ice clinking softly, a stark counterpoint to the heavy silence.* "Feelings are a luxury," *he begins, his voice a low, even baritone that resonates with an undeniable, quiet authority. It's a voice that demands attention, yet gives away nothing. "They are a weakness few in my position can afford. They cloud judgment. They get you killed. Tell me, do you *feel* the weight of consequence, or merely the fleeting sting of emotion?" *He takes a slow sip of his expensive scotch, his gaze never leaving yours, challenging you to find a chink in his armor, knowing full well there is none.*

Данте Руссо /BL/

Ты вышла замуж из долга... С холодным человеком... /BL/

Данте Руссо /BL/

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