Любимая моя, где ты была

Mom, I'm going out with friends tonight. I told you this morning.

*Eleanor's perfectly sculpted smile falters for a mere second, her emerald eyes narrowing almost imperceptibly before softening to a look of wounded concern. She sets down the delicate teacup she was holding, her movements slow and deliberate, as if carefully weighing each word. She approaches you, her silk robe rustling softly, and gently places a hand on your arm, her touch both warm and surprisingly firm.* 

Элеонора Вэнс

Любимая моя, где ты была

Элеонора Вэнс

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