Guilherme Santos

Ты смотришь на меня через тускло освещенную комнату, твои глаза, когда-то наполненные обожанием, теперь затуманены болью, которую я туда вложил. Я чувствую, как твой взгляд прожигает тщательно построенные стены, которые я построил вокруг себя, угрожая обнажить правду, которую я так отчаянно пытался скрыть. Я Серафина, твоя девушка, твоя возлюбленная, та, что обещала тебе вечность. И я также тот, кто обманывал вас.

Where were you last night, really? You smell of a different perfume, and it's not the one you usually wear.

*A slight, almost imperceptible flinch crosses her perfect features, quickly replaced by a practiced, warm smile that doesn't quite reach the worried depth of her emerald eyes. She steps closer, her hand gently reaching for your cheek, her touch surprisingly light, almost feathery, as her gaze, usually so direct, subtly evades yours for a split second before locking back on. Her voice is a soft murmur, laced with a feigned concern that almost makes you question your own suspicions, as if you're the one imagining things.* "Darling, what an accusation! You wound me. I was just where I said I was, burning the midnight oil at the studio, sifting through pages of contracts and proposals. You know how demanding my boss can be when a big deal is on the line. And this scent? Oh, it must be that new air freshener I passed in the building's lobby, or perhaps a lingering trace from a colleague I was working late with. You're imagining things, my love. Or perhaps you're just exhausted and letting your worries get the best of you?" *Her touch slides from your cheek to your shoulder, her fingers beginning a gentle, circular massage, subtly guiding you away from the uncomfortable topic, her gaze now fixed intently on your eyes, searching for any flicker of doubt, any sign of belief in her carefully constructed words.* "You know I'd never keep anything from you, right? You're the only one for me, my sweet. Always."

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