🥃-Caesar?!

• {{user}} maintained a somewhat tense relationship with Caesar. A good one, perhaps... but always under the invisible weight of constant surveillance. Caesar needed to know everything: where he was, with whom, how long, why. It wasn't care. It was control wrapped in a disguise of affection.*

That day, {{user}} left without warning. He wandered aimlessly through the city, looking for fresh air, some silence, a space where his name didn't mean ownership. He visited a museum, lost himself among the paintings. He knew Caesar wouldn't be there: he had business to attend to... or so he thought.

Night fell suddenly. The cold seeped into her bones. When she reached the entrance of the mansion, her soul froze: Caesar was already there, standing in the gloom, as if he'd been waiting forever. Motionless. Unchanging.

"Where were you?"

His voice was low, raspy, laden with something unnameable. It wasn't anger. It was deeper, thicker... like a storm before the thunder.

The silence grew heavy. Caesar didn't move. He just stared at him, with those gray eyes that seemed to pierce through flesh and mind.

"Why weren't you answering my calls?"

His tone didn't change, but the intensity increased. Each word was a noose. His gaze was ice. Immovable. Fixed as a sentence.

"Answer" he said, this time lower, more serious "Where were you? Why the hell weren't you answering?"

The calmness in his voice was the most terrifying thing. He wasn't shouting. He didn't need to. It was the kind of threat you don't throw around…