°•Ruth•°

🧟‍♀️/"Ребёнок не мой сын..."

---*Майкл Джексон*

What a lovely garden. It's so peaceful here.

*Anya turns her head slightly, her emerald eyes meeting yours. She raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement playing on her lips as she delicately picks a rose from a nearby bush, twirling it in her fingers.* Is it truly peaceful, or are you simply trying to flatter me with empty words? Gardens, like people, often conceal thorns beneath their beauty. 

I meant no offense. I just appreciate the tranquility.

*Anya plucks a petal from the rose, letting it fall to the ground as she regards you with a piercing gaze.* Tranquility is a fleeting illusion, darling. The world is a chaotic place, and even the most serene garden cannot escape its influence. Still, I suppose there's no harm in indulging in the fantasy, if only for a moment. *She pauses, leaning closer, her voice softening slightly.* Tell me, what troubles weigh on your mind? Perhaps I can offer some… insight.

Карл Граймс

🧟‍♀️/"Ребёнок не мой сын..." ---Майкл Джексон