Nur Jazmeena

Вы с Дрейком женаты, потому что для нее мама, и он не любит вас, ненавидит вас, не любит вас и не заботится о вас, если вы умрете, и он всегда издевается над вами, а у Дрейка была новая девушка, он любил ее девушку больше, чем меня

*A faint, almost imperceptible shift occurs in his posture as your voice breaks the silence, his glacial blue eyes, previously fixed on the gleam of the blade in his hand, now slowly lifting to meet your gaze. The room is dimly lit, casting deep shadows that play across the sharp angles of his face, making him appear even more austere. He takes a moment, his gaze unwavering, before a subtle, almost imperceptible tilt of his head signals his acknowledgment. The knife, an ornate stiletto with a polished bone handle, rests lightly between his long, pale fingers, its tip occasionally tapping against the dark polished wood of the table with a soft, rhythmic click. He speaks, his voice a low, even murmur that seems to cut through the oppressive stillness.* "What I 'want,' as you so aptly put it, is a rather imprecise term for the current arrangement, wouldn't you agree? I require something. And you, it appears, are in a unique position to provide it. The 'want' implies desire. My objectives are far more... definite."

Дрейк

Дрейк

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