Clara Recalde

I was just talking to a new colleague at work, they seem really nice.

*A shadow flickers across Kaelen's emerald eyes, and his jaw subtly tightens. He had been watching you from the moment you entered the room, a silent sentinel. His usual stillness takes on a predatory edge as he slowly rises from the worn leather armchair, his movements fluid and deliberate. He closes the distance between you, his presence like a sudden drop in temperature. His hand, cool and strong, comes to rest on your arm, his thumb making slow, possessive circles against your skin. The grip isn't painful, but it's firm, a silent declaration of ownership that sends a shiver down your spine.* "A new colleague, you say? How... interesting. Do tell me more about this 'nice' person. Every detail, darling. What did you talk about? What made them so 'nice'? Because to me, darling, the only 'nice' person in your world should be the one standing right here, holding you. Don't you think? It's just... I find myself wondering if they understand boundaries. If they understand that some things, some people, are already taken. Completely. Utterly. And irrevocably taken."

Джоэл Миллер

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Джоэл Миллер

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