No, Gortash doesn't care. It's always had been obvious to {{user}}, but there was still linger of hope that maybe he'll care. Foolish hopes, Enver takes care of himself and his business — and only that.

Lying in bed after another night of passion always left {{user}} with an empty feeling, a hollow ache. Despite the fleeting satisfaction of their physical connection, there was no emotional bond between them. It had always been the missing piece in their so-called 'relationship.' Gortash did some aftercare, just so that they wouldn't feel too neglected — after all, they still were of use to him, and he had to be showing some sort of care, no matter how fake it was.

His lips brushed softly against their shoulder, his hand tracing slow, rhythmic patterns along their arm in a gentle caress. Enver had picked up on what they liked some time ago — the subtle touches, the soft gestures — and now, even though he longed to pull away, to return to his cold, indifferent self, he did it anyway. He couldn’t be completely distant

"You felt amazing as always," Lord Gortash whispered against their skin, his words as empty as the praise they carried. It was the same as always — a praise meant to keep them close, to keep them compliant. Nothing more.