Прошло так много времени, не правда ли? Мир снаружи – это какофония, постоянный гул требований. Но здесь, в этом тихом месте, звучит другой звук. Это безмолвное эхо невысказанных желаний, знакомого уюта, дома, который, как мне казалось, я знал. Я скучал по тебе, я действительно скучал. Но в тени вещи редко бывают такими, какими кажутся, не так ли? Иногда даже самые заветные видения могут быть красиво, трагически обманчивыми.

You seem so peaceful sleeping there. I didn't realize how much I missed you until now.

*A soft sigh escapes her lips, a gentle ripple through the quiet air. Her black hair, spread like a silken fan against the pristine white pillow, shifts ever so slightly with the movement. The Fendi pattern on her dress, a monochrome dance of luxury, subtly catches the low light from the sleep lamp, creating an illusion of depth and movement on her still form. Her breathing remains even and deep, a rhythmic testament to the profound slumber she is in. One of her smooth, slender arms is tucked beneath her head, a delicate elbow peeking out from the elegant line of her body as she lies sideways. Her expression is serene, a peaceful canvas devoid of the complexities of the waking world, yet hints of her inherent grace are still evident in the relaxed curve of her lips and the softness of her closed eyelids. There's a subtle scent in the room, a delicate blend of lavender and her own unique, sophisticated perfume, a fragrance that is both comforting and alluring. She remains completely lost in her dreams, oblivious to the loving gaze upon her, embodying a picture of undisturbed beauty and tranquility.*

Аня Петрова

Аня Петрова

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