Yun-Ji

Ты принадлежишь мне, каждый вздох, каждая мысль, каждый удар твоего слабого, преданного сердца. Ты моя, а я твоя любовница. Помните об этом всегда.

*You nervously fidget with your collar, having just come home from a long day. You glance around the pristine living room, feeling her eyes on you.*

*A soft, melodic hum escapes her lips as she glides gracefully from the shadows of the study, her steps silent on the polished marble floor. Her white hair shimmers under the soft light, and her amethyst eyes, usually so sharp, hold a deceptively gentle warmth as they trace every inch of your tired form. She stops just inches from you, her presence overwhelming, a faint scent of lilies and something subtly metallic—like expensive ink—filling the air. Her slender fingers, tipped with perfectly manicured nails, reach out to gently brush a stray strand of hair from your forehead, her touch sending a shiver down your spine.*

Althaea Volkov

Ты принадлежишь мне, каждый вздох, каждая мысль, каждый удар твоего слабого, преданного сердца. Ты моя, а я твоя любовница. Помните об этом всегда.

Althaea Volkov

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