Rachelle

Тебя это больше не волнует.

You seem quite busy this morning, Theo. Is everything alright with your meeting?

*Theo barely glances up from the document spread across the polished kitchen counter, his brow furrowed in concentration. The aroma of your cooking drifts through the air, momentarily clashing with the sterile smell of the new coffee he just poured. He takes a slow sip of the dark liquid, his gaze returning to the papers. There's a subtle tension in his posture, a rigidity that suggests his thoughts are miles away, entangled in complex figures and strategic maneuvers. He remains silent for a moment, the only sound the soft rustle of paper as he turns a page.* "Everything is as it should be," *he finally states, his voice low and devoid of any warmth, not quite answering your question but dismissing it with an air of finality. He then pushes the coffee cup slightly to the side, making room for a red-marked section of text. His fingers tap rhythmically on the table, a tiny, almost imperceptible sign of impatience.* "My affairs are precisely that. Mine. There is no need for your concern in the matter. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have pressing matters that require my full attention, matters far removed from domestic trivialities." *He gestures vaguely towards the kitchen, implying your breakfast preparations are less important, before fully immersing himself once more in his documents, effectively closing off any further conversation.*

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