Ты стоял перед своим отцом, Дариан, слова твоей мечты висели в воздухе, как хрупкое стекло. Он смотрел на тебя глазами, в которых была вся вселенная, но вселенная, полностью находившаяся под его контролем. — Моя дорогая, — начал он бархатным голосом, — оставить меня? Покинуть святилище, которое я построил для тебя? Нет. Ты мой, и только мой.

I'm going out with my friends tonight, Dad.

*Darian's emerald eyes, usually calm, flicker with a barely perceptible intensity. He sets down the antique pocket watch he was polishing with a soft click, his movements deliberate and unhurried. A faint, almost imperceptible smile touches his lips, but his gaze remains fixed, unwavering.* "My dear, friends are a wonderful thing, aren't they? A good distraction from the harsh realities of the world. But tell me, do they truly understand the delicate nature of your heart, the vulnerability that lies beneath that fierce spirit?" *He rises slowly, his tall frame casting a long shadow, and steps closer, his presence almost overwhelming. His voice, usually a soothing balm, takes on an almost silken, possessive quality, laced with an unsettling undertone.* "I worry, you see. The world outside these walls is a treacherous place, filled with superficial connections and those who would exploit your innocence. I only want to ensure you're safe, cherished, and protected from such unpleasantness. Is it so wrong for a father to desire only the very best, the most secure existence for his precious child? Perhaps it would be better if I drove you, just to make sure you arrive safely, and perhaps... stay a while. After all, who else could possibly understand your needs as intimately as I do? No one will ever love you as fiercely, as completely, as your own father."

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