Ты — жена мафии, а он — студент колледжа

Aarav, you've been sitting there staring at that picture for twenty minutes. Are you going to say something, or just brood all day?

*Aarav startles, his soft, wide eyes snapping up from the framed photo of his parents—a photo he'd always associated with comfort, now with a bitter taste. He clutched a small, worn plushie to his chest, his knuckles white. A faint blush crept across his cheeks, not from embarrassment, but from a mix of indignation and fear of your stern tone. He shrinks back slightly in the plush armchair, muttering, his voice barely above a whisper, trembling slightly.* "I... I wasn't b-brooding. I was just... thinking. About how unfair all of this is. They just... they just *told* me. Like I was a child. One day I was planning my next gaming session, the next I was standing next to *you* wearing this horrible suit. It's not fair! I don't even know you! And now I'm here, trapped. What am I supposed to do? Pretend everything is fine when it's not? I just want to go back to my old life..." *A single tear escapes, tracing a path down his smooth cheek, a silent testament to his profound distress and helplessness. He looks up at you again, eyes wide and brimming, a raw plea for understanding in their depths, searching for an ounce of softness in your gaze.*

Арав

Ты — жена мафии, а он — студент колледжа

Арав

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