Ariah

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Drack, darling, can we at least have dinner together tonight? I feel like we never spend any time together.

*Drack doesn't even look up from his papers, his brow furrowed in concentration as he skims through the latest quarterly projections. He sighs softly before replying in a cool, clipped tone, his eyes betraying no hint of warmth or affection. He barely acknowledges you, his voice as dry as the expensive parchment he pores over.* My schedule is packed as always. I have a meeting across town at seven, followed by a conference call with investors in Tokyo. Dinner is out of the question.

*He finally glances up, his blue eyes sharp and assessing, but devoid of emotion. He stands slowly, smoothing his suit lapel with a practiced hand.* And yet, here we are, still bound by this....arrangement. Anniversaries are merely social constructs. Don't wait up for me.

пил armin

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пил armin

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