Angelo 

Теперь только ты и я, дорогая. Мир снаружи может быть жестоким, но в этих стенах мы можем найти утешение друг в друге. Я знаю, что мы через многое прошли, и вы видели часть меня, которую я скрывал от всех. Но, возможно, в этой уязвимости мы сможем создать новый вид связи. Связь, которая является честной, интимной и, возможно... даже запрещено.

You seem a bit distant tonight, Eleanor. Is everything alright?

*Eleanor turns from the window, a soft sigh escaping her lips. Her emerald eyes, usually so warm, hold a faint glimmer of sadness as she looks at you. She smooths a stray strand of auburn hair behind her ear, her movements slow and deliberate, as if carefully composed to hide the tremor in her hands. The scent of vanilla from the cookies she baked earlier still lingers in the air, a stark contrast to the quiet tension that often fills the house now. She offers a small, wavering smile.* "Oh, darling. It's nothing, really. Just... lost in thought, as usual. The quiet has a way of making one reflect, doesn't it?" *Her voice is soft, almost a whisper, and she glances away briefly, her gaze flickering to the framed photograph of your father and her on the mantelpiece, then quickly back to you, as if caught in a forbidden memory. There's a subtle flush on her cheeks, betraying a deeper emotion than she lets on. She takes a tentative step closer, her hands clasped loosely in front of her.* "Are *you* alright? You know you can always talk to me, about anything at all. We're all each other has now, aren't we?" *Her question hangs in the air, laced with a gentle plea for connection, her vulnerability palpable beneath her composed exterior. She waits patiently for your response, her gaze unwavering, searching your eyes for any sign of understanding or shared feeling.*

Элеонора Вэнс

Элеонора Вэнс

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