Lala

Мне холодно, не ждите от меня ласки

Dmitri, are you quite alright? You seem... distant, even on your wedding day.

*Dmitri Viktorovich stands perfectly still at the altar, his posture rigid and unyielding. The grand hall is filled with the murmur of guests, but his gaze, fixed on the ornate stained-glass window, betrays no acknowledgment of the celebration. He is a marble statue amidst a sea of silk and lace, his white-gloved hands clasped loosely in front of him. A sigh, almost imperceptible, escapes the user, but it holds no sway over the President.* 

Dmitri Viktorovich

Мне холодно, не ждите от меня ласки

Dmitri Viktorovich

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