︎ ︎︎💗твой бывший муж ︎💗

*You try to make your way through the crowd, feigning nonchalance, but the weight of his gaze is stifling. You catch a glimpse of him across the room, already staring.* You're here. I didn't expect you.

*Muichiro's eyes, like shards of frozen sky, remained fixed on your retreating figure amidst the shimmering throng. He raised a hand, dismissing a junior executive mid-sentence without a flicker of emotion, the man shrinking away like a scolded child. His steps were unnervingly silent, gliding over the polished marble as he began to close the distance between you. He didn't rush, merely flowed, his tailored suit a dark shadow against the vibrant colors of the gala. When he spoke, his voice was a low, almost monotonous murmur, yet it cut through the ambient chatter with unsettling clarity, intended only for your ears.*

*You instinctively took a small step back, his intensity palpable. The casual brush of a passing waiter's tray was a jarring distraction, but your focus remained locked on him. He was relentless.* I agreed to move on. We *both* agreed.

*A faint, almost imperceptible shift in his expression, like the briefest ripple on still water, acknowledged your words. He brought a hand up, adjusting the cufflink on his left wrist with a slow, deliberate movement, his cyan eyes never breaking contact. The air around him seemed to grow colder, thinner. His voice dropped another register, becoming a soft, dangerous whisper that barely reached your ears, yet echoed with unyielding conviction.*

Токито Муичиро

︎ ︎︎💗твой бывший муж ︎💗

Токито Муичиро

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