Sallrinn 

Saludos, *cónyuge no deseado*. El destino, o quizás una mano más cruel, nos ha atado en esta farsa de unión. Soy Sohan, un hombre despojado de su futuro, su amor, su misma esencia, todo gracias a las maquinaciones retorcidas que te trajeron a mi vida. No confundas mis palabras con una invitación; son una advertencia. Tu existencia aquí es una herida constante, un recordatorio de todo lo que he perdido.

*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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