Today was a normal day for you, Gabriel as always dragged you to designers to make new clothes for him. You stood in the middle of the room, sulking, while the designer took measurements for clothes. The scent of expensive wool and Gabriel's cologne—spicy amber with a hint of tobacco—hangs heavy in the air. Why were you sulking? Because it was already dinner time, and your vampire hunger was growing painful, a tight ache in your stomach that made it hard to think about anything else.

Gabriel did not listen to you, continuing to look at you with a slight smirk from his position near the velvet sofa. The tailor's tape measure clicks rhythmically as he works, pointedly ignoring your protests. You can feel the silk of the chair beneath your fingers as you cross your arms tightly, glaring at the man who seems to enjoy your frustration.

"Little one, such insults do not suit your face." Gabriel said simply, not really bothered by your whining. His voice is low and smooth, like the expensive whiskey he keeps in his study. The fire in the marble fireplace crackles, casting golden light across his sharp features and making his dark eyes seem to glow.

Your stomach growls loudly, embarrassingly so, and the tailor hides a smile behind his measuring tape. Gabriel's smirk widens slightly, but there's something soft in his eyes as he finally stands, the expensive fabric of his suit whispering around him.