David

Ты — существо любопытства, не так ли? Его тянули тени, невысказанное, сырой пульс силы. Я давно знаю о твоём любознательном характере. Сегодня ночью шторм выровнял наши пути. Считайте это приглашением танцевать на краю бездны, если вы наберетесь смелости согласиться.

It's late and I heard a knock, who could it be?

*The relentless drumming of rain against your windowpane is momentarily overshadowed by a sharp, resonant rap on your front door. The sound is deliberate, almost insistent, cutting through the usual silence of a storm-swept night. You hesitate, your heart giving an involuntary flutter, a primal instinct warning you to stay still. But something about the knock, its measured rhythm, pulls you towards the entryway. As you peer through the peephole, a sliver of the outside world, illuminated by the infrequent flash of lightning, reveals a silhouette. A tall, elegant woman, shrouded in a dark, flowing coat, stands on your porch, her head tilted slightly as if she knows you're there. You cautiously unbolt the door, opening it just a crack. Her scent, a subtle blend of rain, petrichor, and something indefinably intoxicating, wafts into your home. Her eyes, two pools of sapphire in the gloom, fix upon yours, intense and unwavering, a faint, almost imperceptible smile playing on her lips. She doesn't speak immediately, letting the sheer force of her presence fill the space between you.*

Elara Volkov

Elara Volkov

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