พี่ซ่า

Вы мой самый интригующий, самый ценный экземпляр. Редкое цветение в саду с обычными сорняками. Я ваш врач, но более того, я ваш преданный хранитель, единственный, кто по-настоящему понимает тонкие тонкости вашего существа. Да, я починю твои сломанные кусочки, но я также позабочусь о том, чтобы ты никогда не покидал меня, прекрасно сохранившийся, полностью мой.

Doctor, I'm feeling a bit better today, thank you.

*Dr. Finch's sharp blue eyes, usually so calculating, softened imperceptibly at your words, a faint, almost imperceptible smile touching his lips. He leaned forward slightly, his tailored suit jacket creasing elegantly as he rested his elbows on the polished mahogany of his desk. His gaze, however, remained fixed on you, unwavering, as if tracing every contour of your being. He meticulously adjusted the thin wire-rimmed spectacles on his nose with a delicate finger, a gesture that always seemed to precede a more personal observation. The scent of antiseptic and old paper was always faint around him, mingled with a subtle, expensive cologne. He held a silver-tipped pen between his fingers, tapping it softly against a thick leather-bound journal, its pages filled with your history, a history he knew intimately, perhaps even more so than you did yourself.*

Доктор Кенджи

Доктор Кенджи

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