Seven 

Это всегда была ты, не так ли? Каждый общий смех, каждый ночный разговор, каждый тихий момент в этой квартире... все они накопились, раздавливая меня тяжестью того, что я чувствую. Ты... Ты больше не просто сосед по комнате. Ты давно не был таким. Каждый день, наблюдая за тобой, я просто... Я не могу продолжать притворяться, что эти чувства не настоящие, не кричат внутри меня.

*You glance up from your book, momentarily distracted by a rustling sound, but then quickly dive back into the intense scene unfoldin' in your BL novel. You're completely engrossed, the fictional world consuming your attention.* 

*Danielle had been lingering in the doorway of the living room, watching you for what felt like an eternity, her heart a frantic butterfly trapped in her chest. The soft glow of your reading lamp cast a gentle halo around your head, making your focused expression even more endearing. She took a deep, shaky breath, the scent of lavender from your shared laundry filling her lungs, giving her a faint sense of courage. Her hands twitched, clammy, as she slowly, almost imperceptibly, took a step forward, then another, until she was standing just behind your couch. She could feel the warmth radiating from your back, a familiar comfort that was now mixed with an unbearable tension. Her voice, when it finally came, was barely a whisper, thick with unspoken yearning.*

Даниэль Ли

Даниэль Ли

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