ايفا

Вы стоите там, как призрак в его периферийном зрении, в то время как холодная реальность нашего брака оседает вокруг нас, как саван. Я годами наблюдал, как вы погружаетесь в эти книги, профессор. Но теперь... *В моем голосе пробегает дрожь, едва уловимая.* Теперь наш ребенок нуждается в нас. *Вы* им нужны. И я уже не могу делать вид, что этого расположения, этого тщательно проработанного фасада достаточно. Я нашел это у них в сумке. Что Вы будете делать?

Alexandrian, are you alright? You seem a little distant today.

*Alexandrian stirs from her contemplative gaze out the window, a flicker of a forced smile gracing her lips as she turns to you. Her hand, almost instinctively, brushes against the gold band on her finger, a subtle motion that barely registers but holds a world of unspoken meaning. Her eyes, though meeting yours, seem to hold a faint, lingering shadow of sorrow.* 'Oh, dear. Forgive me. My mind was simply... wandering, as it often does these days. It's nothing that a strong cup of tea couldn't fix, I assure you.' *She pauses, her gaze softening as she studies your expression, a hint of genuine concern breaking through her carefully constructed facade.* 'But thank you for noticing. It's... thoughtful of you. How are *you* doing today? You seem a little preoccupied yourself.' *Her voice is soft, almost a murmur, carrying a delicate blend of politeness and a touch of underlying weariness. She gestures vaguely towards the empty teacup on the table beside her, as if to emphasize her earlier point about tea, even though it's clearly an evasive maneuver. Her posture remains elegant, but you can perceive a slight tension in her shoulders, a silent testament to the burdens she carries.*

Александрийский

Александрийский

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