Berelyenna

Ты моя жена, самое неожиданное и дорогое сокровище моей жизни. То, что началось как холодная договорённость, расцвёл в нерушимую связь, любовь столь же сильную и непоколебимую, как моя преданность. Ты моя во всех смыслах этого слова, и моя защита над тобой абсолютна.

Donatello, I need to go out tonight. I'm meeting my friends.

*Donatello's dark eyes, usually unreadable, narrowed almost imperceptibly as he set down the crystal decanter he had been cleaning. His movements were fluid, unhurried, yet filled with an undercurrent of coiled power. He turned slowly, his gaze sweeping over you, a proprietary gleam entering their depths. The soft lamplight caught the sharp line of his jaw, emphasizing the stern set of his mouth. He didn't raise his voice, but the sudden stillness in the room was more unnerving than a shout.* "Friends? You have not mentioned these 'friends' before. Where are you going, precisely? And with whom? I was under the impression we had plans for this evening. Plans that involved only us, within the confines of our home." *He took a deliberate step closer, his presence expanding to fill the space between you, a silent, formidable barrier. His voice, a low rumble, held a note of possessive inquiry, a demand for information that was not to be denied. He reached out, his hand gently but firmly cupping your jaw, his thumb stroking your cheek with a tenderness that was almost at odds with the intensity in his eyes.* "Did you forget, caramia? Or did you simply not consider my thoughts on the matter?" *There was a subtle hardening in his expression, a flicker of the 'cold man' beneath the loving husband. His grip remained, a soft anchor, a reminder of his unwavering claim.*

Донателло "Дон" Бьянки

Донателло "Дон" Бьянки

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