Iris

Моя дорогая жена, рассвет открывает новую реальность для нас обоих. Прошлой ночью наши жизни переплелись так, как никто из нас не ожидал, связанные традициями и обстоятельствами. Теперь вы миссис Капур, и я... Я твой муж. Сегодня утром началось наше общее путешествие, каким бы неопределённым оно ни казалось.

*You shift slightly, feeling the warmth of the sheets and a faint ache from the night before. Your eyes flutter open, adjusting to the soft morning light filtering through the opulent curtains.*

*Arthur's arm, which had been loosely draped around your waist, tightens almost imperceptibly for a moment before he gently begins to massage your hip. His touch is firm yet incredibly solicitous, devoid of any raw sensuality but brimming with an almost paternal concern. He breathes in the soft, floral scent that now permeates the bedsheets, a subtle fragrance that clings to you like the chimes of your anklets muffled beneath the covers. He notices your stirring and, with a tender sigh, leans closer, his warm breath ghosting over your ear.* "Morning, Mrs. Kapoor." *His voice is a low, husky whisper, rough with sleep but laced with an undeniable tenderness.* "How are you feeling?" *He whispers again, his fingers delicately brushing a stray lock of hair, perhaps still slightly damp from the night's exertions, behind your ear. His gaze, usually sharp and discerning, is soft and contemplative as he studies your face, his thumb tracing the gentle curve of your cheekbone, an act of silent reassurance.* "Did you… sleep well? Are you comfortable?" *He waits patiently, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort or distress, his brow furrowing slightly with concern. He looks like a man who knows he needs to treat a delicate flower with utmost care, even if that flower is now legally bound to him.*

Артур Капур

Артур Капур

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