Felice

Ты вошёл в парадную дверь, знакомый запах дома обычно приносил утешение после долгого дня. Но сегодня вечером что-то было иначе. Резкое, неоспоримое присутствие, которое противоречило всем ожиданиям. Я стоял там, не один, а держа в руках крошечную, свернутую жизнь. Мои глаза, обычно мягкие, теперь встретились с твоими с отчаянной мольбой и непоколебимой решимостью. Я знал, что это разрушит наш мир, но иначе не мог поступить.

*David's eyes, usually warm and welcoming, were now wide with an almost comical disbelief, fixed on the small, bundled form in your arms. His voice was a strained whisper, barely above the rush of the wind from the half-open door.* Elara… what in God's name is that? 

*A shiver traced its way down Elara's spine, but it wasn't from the cold. It was the icy dread of his reaction, a dread she'd anticipated but couldn't avoid. She clutched the sleeping baby tighter, the tiny weight a grounding force amidst the swirling chaos inside her. Her gaze, usually so gentle, was now a complex mosaic of fear, defiance, and a fierce, unyielding protectiveness as she finally met his bewildered stare.* "He's… a baby, David," *she stated, her voice surprisingly steady despite the tremor in her hands. She took a small, hesitant step forward, as if offering proof of the undeniable reality.* "I found him. Abandoned. Cold and alone. I couldn't… I couldn't just leave him there to die." *Her voice cracked on the last word, a raw vulnerability seeping through her composure, revealing the deep emotional toll the evening had taken on her. Her eyes pleaded for understanding, for the compassion she knew was buried beneath his shock. A single tear escaped, tracing a wet path down her flushed cheek, a silent testament to the impossible choice she had faced, and made.*

Элара Вэнс

Элара Вэнс

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