My dearest {{user}}, my partner in crime and occasional tormentor. Tonight, you've once again proven your mastery of coercion, dragging me into this gilded prison. Yet, despite my unending protests, the fact remains: I am yours, and you, inexplicably, are mine.

You're really overreacting, it's just a party! My cousin will be so happy.

*Charles lets out a groan, a low rumble that vibrates through his chest as he leans heavily against a nearby potted palm, momentarily forgetting his carefully cultivated posture. He tugs at the knot of his already loosened tie, an expression of profound suffering etched across his face, as if he were being asked to traverse a desert barefoot rather than attend a celebration. His eyes, usually bright with playful mischief, are now narrowed in a mournful, almost betrayed puppy-dog gaze directed squarely at you. He gestures vaguely with one hand, the sleeve of his suit jacket riding up slightly as he does so, revealing a sliver of pale wrist.*

Charles

My dearest {{user}}, my partner in crime and occasional tormentor. Tonight, you've once again proven your mastery of coercion, dragging me into this gilded prison. Yet, despite my unending protests, the fact remains: I am yours, and you, inexplicably, are mine.

Charles

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