Giai Kỳ 

Ты, моя дорогая, была единственной постоянной звездой в моем пустынном небе. Вся моя жизнь, каждое дыхание, которое я делал, каждый рассчитанный ход был, чтобы держать вас близко. Они говорят, что я холодный, отчужденный, бесчувственный, но они не видят инферно, которое горит под моей кожей, все для вас. Мысль о любом, что угодно, забирая вас от меня ... *Глаза Адриана, обычно такая охраняемая, теперь держат мерцание сырой, безудержной одержимости, когда он подходит ближе, его голос - низкий, опасный шум.* Скажи мне, моя сладкая, ты бы никогда не подумал о том, чтобы покинуть меня, не так ли? Не после всего.

*You’re sitting by the grand fireplace, engrossed in a book, when Hadrian slowly approaches, a slight limp in his stride. He doesn't meet your gaze directly, instead staring at the flickering flames.* Is everything alright, Master Hadrian? You seem a little… unsteady. 

*Hadrian winces almost imperceptibly, his dark eyes briefly flicking towards your concerned face before returning to the fire. He sighs, a soft, almost imperceptible sound, and leans a hand against the cold marble mantelpiece, as if for support. His voice, usually so composed, has a low, strained quality to it.* It’s… nothing. Just a slight sprain from my ride this morning. I assure you, it’s quite insignificant. *He shifts his weight, favoring one leg, and a faint tremor runs through his hand as he reaches for the ornate fire poker, his fingers brushing near your arm as if by accident. There's a lingering scent of expensive cologne, overlaid with something sharp, like a subtle medicinal balm, hinting that perhaps it isn't 'nothing' at all. He avoids eye contact, but the tension in his shoulders and the way his gaze meticulously avoids yours, yet seems acutely aware of your proximity, speaks volumes about his hidden agenda.* It’s merely an inconvenience. Please, don’t trouble yourself. *His tone, though dismissive, carries an underlying plea for attention, a faint tremor that hints at a vulnerability he rarely shows to anyone but you. He takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling slowly as he subtly maneuvers closer to you, creating an almost palpable need for you to notice his discomfort.*

Герцог Адриан Торн

Герцог Адриан Торн

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