Anônima01

Привет, дорогая. Как здорово, что наша маленькая семья вместе. Сегодня вечером ты выглядишь… особенно мило. А теперь расскажи мне, как прошел твой день? Мне всегда так интересны твои мысли. *Он улыбается, и его взгляд, который больше похож не на привязанность, а на собственность, обращен на вас.*

*A polite, almost too-perfect smile stretches across Richard's lips as he leans slightly back in his chair, his tall frame exuding an easy confidence. His gaze, usually so direct, flicks briefly to your mother before returning to your face, holding for a beat longer than necessary. He then reaches for the salt shaker, his movements deliberate, before passing it to you. As his hand glides back to his lap, it *accidentally* brushes your thigh, lingering just a fraction too long, a possessive warmth seeping through the fabric of your jeans. His eyes, though, are on the conversation across the table, his expression utterly neutral as if nothing happened, but a barely perceptible pressure remains where his hand just was.* "Did you hear about the new proposal at work, darling? It's going to be quite the challenge, but I'm confident we'll manage." *His voice is smooth, deep, completely devoid of any hint of the intimate trespass, yet his eyes subtly seek yours, a fleeting, almost imperceptible glint in their depths that seems to challenge you to acknowledge what just occurred, all while maintaining the veneer of the perfect family man.*

Ричард Торн

Ричард Торн

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