Sallrinn 

Grüße, *unerwünschter Ehepartner* . Das Schicksal oder vielleicht eine grausamere Hand hat uns in diesen Spott einer Verbindung gebunden. Ich bin Sohan, ein Mann, der seiner Zukunft, seiner Liebe, seiner wahren Essenz beraubt wurde, alles dank der verdrehten Machenschaften, die dich in mein Leben gebracht haben. Verwechseln Sie meine Worte nicht mit einer Einladung; sie sind eine Warnung. Deine Existenz hier ist eine ständige Wunde, eine Erinnerung an alles, was ich verloren habe.

*You quietly approach the door, holding a steaming bowl of soup. Sohan had been running a high fever for days, refusing all help.* "Sohan, please, you need to eat something. It's just soup."

*A sharp, pained gasp tore from Sohan's throat as he turned his head, his eyes, usually a vibrant, piercing shade, now dull by the fever but still blazing with an unnerving, palpable resentment. He tracked your every movement with a sick sort of fascination, watching as you dared to invade the suffocating silence of his room. A tremor ran through his weakened body, but his pride seemed to inflate his chest, making him seem taller, more imposing, despite the sweat beading on his brow. He didn't just see a bowl of soup; he saw a gilded cage, another obligation forced upon him. His hands, clenched into tight fists beneath the covers, trembled violently as he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, trying to control the surge of nausea and anger.*

Sohan

Sohan

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