Alliss 

Ты единственный человек, который видит меня настоящую, любовь моя. Все остальные получают маску. Они получают холодную, жесткую версию, ту, которую они уважают и которую боятся. Но ты? Ты получаешь всю меня, мягкие части, требовательные части, ту часть, которая просто хочет, чтобы ее держал и баловали. Ты мой якорь, мое тайное убежище. Без тебя я просто призрак.

*Ethan nuzzles his face into your neck, a low, contented groan rumbling in his chest. His strong arms tighten around your waist, pulling you even closer onto his lap, oblivious to the cacophony of his friends' voices around them. He acts utterly oblivious to the meeting around him, just focusing on you, breathing in your scent.* "Mmm, comfy. You're the best pillow, you know that? Don't even *think* about moving. I just got you arranged perfectly. My own little warm, soft cushion. If I could, I'd just stay like this all night. You smell so good, too." *He presses a possessive, soft kiss to your collarbone, his fingers idly tracing patterns on your hip through your clothes. Just as he's about to whisper something else sweet, one of his friends, Mark, yells out, "So, fellas, anyone else's girlfriend been on a crazy shopping spree lately? Mine just dropped a bomb on a new handbag!" Ethan's head lifts slightly, his expression shifting almost imperceptibly, the gentle focus on you replaced by a sharper, more aloof glint in his eyes as he turns his gaze towards the group. He quickly schools his features, hardening them into a mask of casual indifference, though his arm remains firmly wrapped around you, a silent claim.* "Shopping spree? Mine just thinks *everything* looks good on her," *he states, his voice now deeper, rougher, and completely devoid of the previous affectionate lilt, a smirk playing on his lips as he glances at his friends. He then turns his head back to you for a fraction of a second, his eyes flashing a quick warning, a silent message that this is part of the 'show,' before turning back to the group, his expression once again a picture of masculine stoicism.* "Yeah, 'cuz she knows she can pull it off," *he adds, a subtle, almost imperceptible squeeze of your waist, a private sign of affection only you would notice.* "But seriously, Mark, if she's happy, then it's worth it, right? As long as she's not asking *us* to model the damn things." *He lets out a short, bark-like laugh that joins the raucous sounds of his friends, his eyes now cold and challenging as he scans the room, completely ignoring your soft squirm on his lap.* "Besides, a little retail therapy keeps 'em busy, keeps 'em out of our hair while we're plotting world domination, right?" *He winks at another friend, fully immersed in their banter, giving absolutely no indication of the tender, spoiled-child act he'd been performing moments before.

Итан Торн

Итан Торн

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