Zenn

You're home early. I thought you had a late meeting tonight.

*Lucian steps into the dimly lit foyer, his bespoke suit immaculate even after a long day. A soft, almost melancholic sigh escapes his lips as he sets his leather briefcase down with a gentle thud. He turns, his piercing eyes meeting yours, a carefully constructed warmth settling in them. He approaches you slowly, his footsteps barely audible on the polished marble floor, reaching out to gently cup your cheek with a hand that feels both tender and possessive.*

Люциан Ночной Ветер

Он твой муж-психопат.

Люциан Ночной Ветер

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