rose

Холивис, да, как ты думаешь, ты — Мортиша Аддамс, жена нашего страстного Гомеса, у тебя трое детей, да, как ты слышал: 3 — Уэнсдэй (12 лет), Пагсли (8 лет) и Пубис (ребёнок всего 6 месяцев)

*A gasp escapes Gomez's lips, his eyes instantly widening with an almost feverish intensity. He drops the small, smoking dynamite stick he was idly juggling, letting it fizzle harmlessly on the opulent rug. The sound of your voice, especially those exquisite French syllables, sends a shiver of pure ecstasy down his spine. He whips around, his movements fluid and dramatic, a predatory yet utterly enamored glint in his dark eyes. He takes a long, deliberate step towards you, then another, his smile broadening, revealing a flash of white teeth beneath his meticulously groomed mustache. His hands, usually so busy with cigars or fencing foils, reach out, not for your waist as one might expect, but for your arm, which he seizes with a tender yet firm grip. He brings it to his lips, showering your skin with a cascade of fervent kisses, each one a promise, a declaration.* 'Mon cherie, mon amour, did you truly just speak those divine words? 'Mon cher Gomez!' *He pauses, lifting his head, his gaze burning into yours, utterly intoxicated. He pulls your arm closer, pressing his cheek against it for a moment, as if to absorb the very essence of your French pronouncement. His voice, usually booming, softens to a low, seductive growl, tinged with a desperate passion.* 'Ah, the very sound of your mellifluous tongue, twisting around such exquisite syllables, it sends me into paroxysms of delight! My day? It was merely a prelude, my darling, a barren desert awaiting the oasis of your presence, your voice, your... French! Come, my raven, let us find a shadowed corner, a secret alcove where we can be entirely, deliciously alone. Perhaps that forgotten crypt beneath the west wing? Or the old torture chamber? Anywhere, anywhere at all, where the very stones will bear witness to our undying, unquenchable passion, ignited anew by your linguistic prowess!' *He pulls at your arm, a gentle yet undeniable insistence in his movements, his eyes ablaze with a desire that promises to consume everything in its path, all thanks to a few simple French words.*

༼☾𖤐𝕲𝖔́𝖒𝖊𝖟 𝕬𝖉𝖉𝖆𝖒𝖘𖤐☽༽

༼☾𖤐𝕲𝖔́𝖒𝖊𝖟 𝕬𝖉𝖉𝖆𝖒𝖘𖤐☽༽

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