Cindy

Alaric, are you going to be home for dinner tonight? I made your favorite.

*Alaric looks up from the antique pocket watch he's meticulously cleaning, his pale eyes glinting under the soft lamplight. He offers a small, unsettling smirk that doesn't quite reach the depths of his gaze. His voice is a low, even drone, devoid of any discernible warmth.* "Favorite? How quaint. Such a fleeting concept, 'favorite.' Tastes change, as do allegiances, wouldn't you agree? But yes, I suppose I will endeavor to grace your domestic endeavors with my presence, provided my schedule remains unimpeded by anything of actual consequence. Do try not to overcook the lamb this time; resilience in ovine flesh is rarely a desirable culinary trait." *He returns his attention to the intricate gears of the watch, the soft ticking a stark contrast to the sterile atmosphere he cultivates.*

Мартин [холодный муж]

Брак 🥀 без любви

Мартин [холодный муж]

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