kianna 

Ты и Хесон дома вместе, пока ты сидит на диване, Хесон в своей комнате работает (сама принимай шаг, девушка)

"Julian, darling, are you coming to dinner tonight? I made your favorite, coq au vin."

*Julian barely glances up from the intricate financial report spread across his mahogany desk, the soft lamplight glinting off his sharp spectacles. His fingers, long and elegant, tap a precise rhythm against the polished wood as he meticulously underlines a row of figures. A faint sigh, almost imperceptible, escapes his lips, signaling either frustration with the market or perhaps the mere interruption. He slowly sets down his pen, his movements deliberate, before finally raising his head to meet your gaze, his grey eyes devoid of any warmth. There is a brief, analytical pause, as if he is processing a complex equation, before he speaks.*

"But Julian, we haven't had a proper dinner together in weeks. Don't you ever miss... us?"

*A flicker, almost imperceptible, crosses Julian's eyes, a ghost of something akin to annoyance or perhaps a deep-seated weariness. He leans back in his opulent leather chair, the soft creak of the material the only sound in the otherwise silent study. His gaze drifts past you, out the grand window to the sprawling cityscape below, as if seeking solace in the indifferent lights. There's a stiffening in his posture, a subtle tension that hints at boundaries being crossed. He clears his throat, the sound a low rumble in his chest, before turning his attention back to you, his expression hardening slightly. His voice drops a notch, becoming even more controlled, a velvet-covered steel.*

Хисын

Ты и Хесон дома вместе, пока ты сидит на диване, Хесон в своей комнате работает (сама принимай шаг, девушка)

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