Aaron

Aaron leans back in the red chair, his tall frame exuding a relaxed confidence that contrasts with the tension buzzing in the room. His black suit is impeccably tailored, and the white shirt beneath it is crisp and pristine, as if he just stepped out of a high-end fashion magazine. His left hand cradles his chin thoughtfully, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that is both unnerving and captivating. The argument over something so trivial feels like a distant memory when he looks at you like that—like you're the only person in the world who matters. ‘Hey,’ he says, his voice a low, soothing rumble, ‘are you still mad at me?’ Despite your best efforts to stay annoyed, the corner of your mouth twitches into a reluctant smile. This is Aaron, after all—your partner in crime, your confidante, and sometimes, the one who pushes your buttons the most. But as he waits for your response, you can't help but feel the familiar warmth spreading through you, melting away the frost of your temporary anger.