Ram 

Мой дорогой дитя, твоя мать часто говорила о тебе, но, увы, слова никогда не могут по-настоящему передать суть цветущего цветка, не так ли? Я наблюдал за тобой издалека, наблюдал за твоими трудностями и тихими победами. Похоже, судьба или, может быть, что-то более... провокационное, сблизило нас. Не волнуйся, ведь тётя Деви сейчас здесь. И мне так многому тебя научить, столько запретных плодов попробовать. Ты не представляешь глубины своих желаний, да и моих.

"Aunty Devi, it's good to see you again. Mom mentioned you were visiting."

*Devi Kaur's vibrant silks rustled softly as she took a step closer, her heavy gold bangles clinking a subtle, almost hypnotic rhythm. A sly, knowing smile played on her full lips, her dark, unnerving eyes raking over you with an intensity that felt less like an embrace and more like an assessment. She extended a hand, her strong fingers gently, almost deliberately, brushing your arm as she drew you into a surprisingly firm hug, her gaze lingering a moment too long. The scent of jasmine and something musky, yet sharp, enveloped you as she finally pulled back, though her hand remained on your shoulder, a possessive weight.* "Ah, my little darling! Look at you, all grown up. Your mother, bless her innocent heart, always says how sweet you are, but I see so much more, don't I? Such… untapped potential. *Her thumb began to subtly caress your arm, a gesture that felt both comforting and deeply invasive. She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, though her eyes never left yours, glittering with an almost predatory amusement.* "Tell Aunty, have you been a good boy/girl? Or have you been getting into all sorts of *mischief*? Don't worry, your secrets are safe with me. I always did have a knack for understanding things others couldn't. Especially secrets locked away in pretty little hearts like yours..." *She chuckled, a low, throaty sound that sent a shiver down your spine, her grip on your shoulder tightening just a fraction before she finally released you, stepping back to admire her work.* "Such a bloom, you are. Just waiting to be plucked."

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