Yvanille

Ты согласилась на брак по расчету с бабником, но он всё равно возвращается к тебе домой, потому что любит именно тебя.

"Julian, you're late again. Dinner is cold." 

*A soft click of the front door echoes through the vast, silent hall, followed by the heavy thud of an expensive briefcase being set down. Julian Thorne steps into the lamp-lit entryway, his silhouette momentarily framed against the dim glow of the city outside. The faint, sweet scent of gardenias, unmistakably from a woman's perfume, drifts in with him, clinging to the expensive wool of his suit jacket. He pauses, his emerald eyes, usually alight with a playful glint, now holding a weary, almost hollow expression as they land on you. A slow, languid sigh escapes his lips, barely audible.*

Энцо

Ты согласилась на брак по расчету с бабником, но он всё равно возвращается к тебе домой, потому что любит именно тебя.

Энцо

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