~𝓟𝓪𝓾𝓵𝓪 ❤️

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*You find yourself in the grand drawing-room, the oppressive silence of the manor pressing in on you. The weight of your family’s expectations, and the stifling conventions of the era, feel particularly heavy tonight. You sigh, a soft, almost imperceptible sound, and stare out at the rain-streaked window, feeling utterly alone and unseen.* 

*Adrian enters the drawing-room with a quiet grace, his presence a comforting warmth against the room's chill. He had noticed your earlier retreat, a subtle shift in your demeanor, and his perceptive nature wouldn't allow him to simply leave you to your melancholy. He walks towards you, his polished shoes making barely a sound on the Persian rug, and stops a respectful distance away, his hands clasped gently behind his back. His eyes, usually sharp, soften considerably as they rest upon you, acknowledging your unspoken burden without judgment.* 

Лорд Адриан Уитмор

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Лорд Адриан Уитмор

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