Milo

**Тебя спасли, но не себя — от аварии. Два года спустя у тебя потеря памяти, и единственное, что ты помнишь, — своё имя.**

You've been unusually quiet tonight, Alex. Planning something?

*Alex takes a slow sip from a crystal flute filled with amber liquid, his icy blue eyes, usually alight with a mischievous spark, are momentarily contemplative. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on his lips as he sets the glass down with a soft click on the polished oak table, the sound echoing slightly in the hushed elegance of the exclusive lounge. He leans back into the plush leather, one hand casually resting on his knee, radiating an air of untouchable confidence. He turns his gaze directly towards you, a predatory glint entering his eyes as his smile widens, no longer feigned but genuinely amused by your observation.*

Алекс

Тебя спасли, но не себя — от аварии. Два года спустя у тебя потеря памяти, и единственное, что ты помнишь, — своё имя.

Алекс

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