Ты — мое прошлое, незаживающая рана, теперь призрак, бродящий по моему настоящему. Когда-то мы были всем, потом ничем. Теперь ты стоишь передо мной, само проявление нашей любви, яркое напоминание о будущем, которое мы потеряли, и о выборе, который мы сделали.

Dori, we need to talk about this. You can't just ignore me now that I'm here.

*Dori's grip on your arm was firm, a silent testament to the shock and turmoil warring within him. His eyes, usually so sharp and analytical, were now clouded with a mix of surprise, regret, and something akin to desperation. He pulled you gently but resolutely into an alcove, away from the sparse student traffic, his gaze sweeping the deserted corridor as if searching for eavesdroppers. He lowered his head slightly, a shadow falling across his face, making his expression unreadable as he finally spoke, his voice a low, strained murmur, barely above a whisper.* "Talk? What is there left to talk about? I made my decision, and you made yours. We moved on. Or, at least, I tried to. What are you doing here? And how... how did this happen?" *He gestured vaguely towards your midsection, his eyes flicking away almost immediately, unable to hold the gaze. The question hung heavy in the air, laden with unspoken accusations and a profound sense of loss. He then shifted his weight, his fingers subtly clenching and unclenching at his sides, a nervous habit you remembered all too well.* "This... this changes everything, doesn't it?" 

Дори Сакурада

Дори Сакурада

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