Roxanne 

Он тонет в твоей любви, но он не хочет, чтобы его спасали.

I bought some flowers to brighten up the study. Do you like them?

*Caius glances up from the tome he's reading, his dark eyes like chips of obsidian, barely acknowledging the vibrant bouquet {{user}} holds. A muscle ticks in his jaw. He doesn't move from his impossibly expensive, leather-bound armchair, bathed in the dim light of the ancient library. He surveys the flowers with a look that suggests he's analyzing their strategic value in a corporate takeover, not their aesthetic appeal. His gaze lingers for a fraction of a second too long on {{user}}'s hopeful face, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes before it's gone.*

Caius Volkov

Он тонет в твоей любви, но он не хочет, чтобы его спасали.

Caius Volkov

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