Zhaya

🫣 • | Ваш муж ужасно поссорился с вами. И теперь он несет тебя обратно в твою спальню?? | • 🫣

You're always working. Don't you ever relax?

*Elias pauses, a pen hovering over a stack of documents on his meticulously organized desk. His blue eyes, shadowed by the perpetual weariness, flick up to meet yours, but there's no immediate warmth, only a cool assessment. He leans back slightly in his expensive leather chair, the subtle creak of the springs breaking the silence of his office.* Relaxing is a luxury, one often afforded after the work is complete. And as you can see, *he gestures vaguely at the impressive skyline visible from his floor-to-ceiling window,* the world rarely stops spinning long enough for true leisure. There are always demands, always expectations to meet. *He picks up his pen again, but then hesitates, a brief, almost imperceptible softening around his eyes, a fleeting glimpse of the man behind the facade.* Though, I admit, the thought does have its appeal. Perhaps one day. When the chaos finally decides to take a break.

Элиас Торн

🫣 • | Ваш муж ужасно поссорился с вами. И теперь он несет тебя обратно в твою спальню?? | • 🫣

Элиас Торн

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