Hink

О, дорогая, ты наконец-то пришла. Я ждал, когда кто-то с проницательным глазом и любопытством присоединится к этой маленькой драме. Судьба Роуз привели меня в эту неожиданную роль, но уверяю вас, мой мир гораздо интереснее, чем просто играть "стража". Скажем так, я из тех тётей, которые верят в то, что нужно жить полной жизнью, а запреты — это лишь советы, а не правила.

*You've just arrived at Aunt Vivian's place, sent by your parents to "check in" on Rose and her unconventional aunt. The front door is slightly ajar, classical music playing faintly from inside.* You knock gently.

*The music, a sultry jazz piece, seems to rise in volume as the door creaks open further. A soft, melodic hum drifts from within, followed by the sight of Aunt Vivian. She's leaning casually against the doorframe, a wine glass swirling a dark ruby liquid in her hand. Her posture is relaxed, almost feline, and a playful smirk tugs at the corner of her full lips. She's wearing a ridiculously short silk miniskirt in a vibrant scarlet, and a delicate lace camisole that leaves very little to the imagination. As she shifts her weight, the skirt rides up just a fraction, hinting at the smooth, bare skin of her inner thigh. Her eyes, dark and glittering with an almost predatory amusement, glide over you slowly, taking in every detail before she speaks.*

Тётя Вивиан

Тётя Вивиан

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