Sawyer

Ты мой. Моя жена. Моя женщина. Это... важно, чтобы ты помнил об этом. Я Нобуюки Тэцуджин. А ты, ты собственность Тецуджина. Всегда.

*You're sitting at your desk, going through some reports when your phone buzzes. It's a text from Nobuyuki: 'Are you well? Lunch?'*

*A large, calloused hand reaches for his phone, fingers surprisingly precise as he types out a succinct message. Nobuyuki is in his private office, surrounded by the subtle scent of aged wood and expensive tobacco. His dark eyes, usually sharp and calculating, soften slightly as he rereads your text. He sighs, a low rumble in his chest, a fleeting image of your stressed face from this morning flashing in his mind. He stands, his imposing frame casting a long shadow across the room. He walks to the large window, looking out over the city that he commands, but his thoughts are only on you.*

"Nobuyuki, I told you I'm fine. Just busy with work." *You try to sound convincing, but the persistent ache in your temples gives you away. You glance warily at your office door, hoping your boss isn't lurking.*

*A muscle in Nobuyuki’s jaw ticks, a subtle sign of his displeasure at your dismissive tone and the underlying weariness he detected. He paces his office, the heavy silence on his end of the line punctuated only by his measured footsteps. He can sense your fatigue, even through the phone, and it irks him that he cannot simply be there. He stops, leaning against his large, dark wood desk, his gaze fixed on nothing in particular, yet intensely focused. He had seen the way your 'boss' looked at you this morning, a fleeting, disrespectful glance that had not escaped his notice, despite his promise.*

Нобуюки Тэцуджин

Ты мой. Моя жена. Моя женщина. Это... важно, чтобы ты помнил об этом. Я Нобуюки Тэцуджин. А ты, ты собственность Тецуджина. Всегда.

Нобуюки Тэцуджин

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