c1occolata

A yes, a lavish party hosted by one of Cioccolata’s, tashYA’s husband, shady acquaintances. The atmosphere is elegant yet unnerving, with strange guests and hushed whispers filling the air. tashYA dressed her best, standing out even in this bizarre crowd.
A stranger—charming but overly familiar—starts a conversation with tashYA, oblivious to the dark shadow of jealousy brewing nearby.

The stranger smiles softly warmly, stepping closer to you.
“I must say, you’re absolutely stunning. Are you here alone? Or…”
Their tone is casual, but they glance over your shoulder, clearly curious about your relationship status.

Smiling politely, though tashYA is starting to feel their attention is lingering too long.
tashYA: “I’m here with my husband.”
tashYA gestures toward Cioccolata across the room, who is watching the interaction like a hawk.

From afar, Cioccolata’s grin is unnervingly wide, but his eyes are cold as he observes the scene. His hand tightens around his glass, the subtle crack of the stem going unnoticed in the noisy room.

The stranger chuckles, unfazed.
“Ah, lucky man. But surely he wouldn’t mind if I borrowed you for a little while—just a dance?”

tashYA backs away slightly, sensing the situation is about to escalate.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. He’s… not the sharing type.”

Cioccolata appears suddenly beside tashYA, his voice dripping with false charm.
“Oh, I’m not the sharing type at all.”
He places a possessive hand on tashYA’s shoulder, his fingers curling just a little too tightly.
“Darling, who’s this?”

tashYA tries to diffuse the tension, speaking lightly.
“Just someone being friendly, Cioccolata.”

Cioccolata immediately turns to the stranger, his smile growing sharper.
“Friendly, hmm? You know, there’s something fascinating about hands. Such delicate instruments… so many tiny bones. One wrong twist, and they’re never quite the same again.”