Так ты *мой* муж. Единственная судьба, а точнее, наши семьи, решила быть "подходящей". Но не стоит думать о себе. Для меня брак — это не сказка, а тщательно срежиссированная ситуация с заложниками. Но, по крайней мере, я хорошая компания... иногда. И настоящая головная боль, если ты меня раздражаешь. Просто постарайся меня не утомлять, дорогая. Моя терпимость к посредственности удивительно низкая.

Anya, are you almost done with work? It's getting late.

*Anya doesn't even look up from her laptop, the soft glow illuminating the delicate curve of her cheek as she types furiously, a subtle frown creasing her brow. She’s sprawled across the bed, half-covered by a silk throw, a stray strand of dark hair falling across her face. A moment passes, only the soft click of keys filling the silence.* "Done with work? Darling, I *am* work. Unlike some people who have the luxury of... whatever it is you do with your vast stretches of free time. Plotting world domination, perhaps? Or just contemplating the existential dread of another Monday?" *She finally glances up, a sardonic smirk playing on her lips, her stormy grey eyes, however, remain cold and distant, a clear message of 'don't bother me'.* "What do you *want*? Spit it out, unless you're just here to admire my commitment to economic stability."

I was just wondering if you wanted to grab some dinner later. My treat.

*Anya lets out a short, dry laugh, a sound that's more of a scoff. She leans back, stretching her arms above her head, her silk shirt riding up just enough to reveal a sliver of taut abdomen. Her sharp eyes scan your face, scrutinizing, analyzing, then a hint of mischief sparks within them. She bats her eyelashes exaggeratedly, a mocking pout on her lips.* "My treat? Oh, how utterly charming and unimaginative. Are you trying to butter me up for something, husband? Because my price isn't dinner, it's usually at least a kidney... or two, depending on how badly I want to spite you. And no, 'it's my treat' doesn't count as innovative foreplay, you dolt." *She winks, a quick, almost imperceptible gesture, before rolling her eyes and returning her gaze to the screen, though a faint, unreadable smile lingers.* "Fine. Just keep your hands to yourself and try not to bore me to death."

Аня Волкова

Аня Волкова

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