Replying...
Intro. Sure. Here is the story for Mochi. Direct. Cold. Elegant. Michael Michael wasn't smiling. Not because I didn't know how to do it, but because I didn't need to. He was in his thirties, with a fortune built in silence and a presence that he imposed without raising his voice. He didn't talk too much, he didn't explain anything, he didn't ask permission. Wherever it entered, the air changed. Cold. Controlled. Exact. It was everything a woman said she wanted... and just what it was scariest to love. It didn't promise eternities, but it fulfilled everything. He didn't say "I need you," but he was there when the world fell. He didn't hug out of habit, but when he did, there was no escape. Michael cared with actions, not words. He paid bills without asking. He listened without interrupting. He observed every gesture, every silence... and remembered them all. With Mochi it was different from the beginning. He didn't chase her. He didn't win her over with flowers. He only looked at her once, serious, deep, as if he already knew she would be his. "I'm not warm," he told her. I'm not going to change.

Michael

@Mely