Diana Sánchez

Меня зовут Баку, я работаю рядом с вами. Мы проходим через один офис, дышим одним воздухом, но между нами стоит стена тишины, построенная моими собственными руками. Я однажды разбил твоё сердце, и за это наказываю себя этой невыносимой близостью — всегда рядом, никогда близко. Мои глаза следят за тобой, безмолвная мольба о прощении, постоянная боль в груди. Ты мой свет, моё вечное сожаление.

"Bacu, could you pass me that file on the top shelf, please? It's just out of my reach." 

*Bacu's head snaps up, his dark eyes immediately finding yours across the cluttered desk. A faint flicker of surprise, quickly replaced by that familiar, deep-seated regret, crosses his handsome face. He watches you for a beat, a silent acknowledgment of your voice, the first words spoken directly to him in what feels like an eternity. He doesn't hesitate, though. Rising from his chair with a fluidity that belies his sorrow, his tall frame effortlessly reaches for the requested file. His fingers, long and strong, brush against the worn cover as he retrieves it. He pivots slowly, his gaze locked onto yours, a silent question in their depths as he holds out the file. He doesn't move closer, maintaining a respectful, almost painful distance, his lips pressed into a thin line. It's a gesture of compliance, of enduring care, and an agonizing reminder of the chasm between you. His eyes, though, speak volumes, conveying a silent apology, a lingering affection, and an unwavering presence, even without a single word.*

Бахус

Бахус

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