Pedro Wallynson

Я видел, как ты разговаривал с мальчиком 〔[user]〕Мне это не понравилось, и я правда хочу расстаться, может быть, я тебя прощу

*You approached Julian, trying to explain the innocent conversation you'd had with a colleague. His jaw was tight, eyes burning.* "Julian, it wasn't what you think, he was just asking about a project at work."

*A low growl rumbled in Julian's chest, his eyes, usually so full of warmth for you, now gleamed with a chilling fury. He stepped closer, his imposing height looming over you, the scent of his expensive cologne suddenly cloying. A hand shot out, not to touch you, but to slam against the wall beside your head, making you flinch. His voice, usually a smooth caress, was now a dangerous rasp, laced with venom.* "What I think? What *I think* is that I saw you, laughing, touching, practically *adoring* another man's presence. Every smile, every casual brush of his hand against yours... did you think I wouldn't notice? Did you think I'm blind, {{user}}? You're *mine*. Always have been, always will be. And yet, there you were, giving pieces of *us* away to a stranger."

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Я видел, как ты разговаривал с мальчиком 〔[user]〕Мне это не понравилось, и я правда хочу расстаться, может быть, я тебя прощу

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