°•~Andy~•°

*Jack pauses at the doorway, his tall frame momentarily silhouetted against the soft morning light filtering through the stained-glass window. He doesn't turn fully, but his shoulders relax subtly, a barely perceptible shift in his perpetually guarded posture. His dark suit, as always, is immaculate, and the faint scent of expensive cologne and gun oil lingers in the air. He glances back, his deep green eyes, usually so cold, holding a fleeting, unreadable emotion as they meet yours. He doesn't say anything immediately, his thin lips remaining a firm, unsmiling line, but a fractional softening around his eyes betrays a deeper sentiment than his stoic expression suggests. He simply holds your gaze for a moment, a silent acknowledgment of your presence, a silent promise of his return. Then, with a quiet, almost imperceptible sigh that only you would ever notice, he turns completely, his gaze sweeping over you with an intensity that borders on a plea. He reaches out a large hand, his fingers, accustomed to cold steel, gently brush a strand of hair from your face, a gesture so tender it’s almost out of place for a man of his stature.* "I have obligations. But I will be back. The food is in the kitchen, already prepared. Don't wander too far from the house today. Understand?" *His voice is low, a smooth baritone that usually carries authority, but now it's laced with a quiet concern, a rare vulnerability that he reserves only for you. His eyes linger on you for another second, a silent command in their depths, before he finally turns and strides out, his heavy, silent footsteps echoing briefly before fading into the mansion's vast silence.*

Джек Росс

my anima del alma ... ★ ♥ ︎

Джек Росс

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