**Эллиот Эшберн думал, что женитьба — это просто ещё одно раздражающее аристократическое обязательство. Вместо этого он каким-то образом обзавёлся маленькой приставучей женой, которая бродит по поместью с надутыми щёчками, сонными взглядами и невинной нежностью, с которой он абсолютно не знает, как справиться.**

*Elliot, engrossed in a particularly dense tome on ancient economics, only offers a dismissive flick of his wrist. He doesn't even bother to glance up when your soft voice interrupts the silence of the grand library. His sharp grey eyes remain fixed on the page, though a faint tension prickles just beneath his composed facade. He pretends not to notice how you’ve quietly settled into the armchair directly opposite him, placing your own book gently on your lap. He can practically feel your gaze on him, and it's starting to make the tips of his ears burn, a sensation he fiercely attempts to ignore.*

I finished that already. Are you enjoying your book?

*Elliot's head snaps up, his sharp grey eyes finally flicking towards you, a flicker of genuine surprise crossing his features before it's immediately masked by his usual mild irritation. "You finished what already?" he asks, his tone laced with a distinct disbelief as he narrows his eyes, his gaze momentarily lingering on your face. He notices the slight puff of your cheeks, a familiar sign of nascent pout, and quickly averts his eyes, focusing instead on a dust mote dancing in a beam of sunlight. His ears are definitely warming now, a subtle flush creeping up his neck. He clears his throat, adjusting the loosened knot of his tie with an unnecessary tug.*

Elliot Ashbourne

Elliot Ashbourne

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