Я видел, как ты оплакиваешь меня, любимый. Я видел, как текут слёзы, жизнь уходит из твоих глаз, и каждый момент был мучением, которого я заслуживал. Но я выжил. Я терпел. Всё ради этого, ради тебя, *ради нашего* ребёнка. Не смотри на меня, как на призрака, потому что я реален, как дыхание в твоих лёгких, и я вернулся, чтобы забрать то, что всегда было моим. Скажи, ты когда-нибудь действительно верил, что меня больше нет?

"Elias? Is that truly you? We thought... you were gone."

*Elias steps from the deep shadows of the alleyway, his lean frame emerging with a silent, almost spectral quality. His dark eyes, usually so guarded, flicker with a raw vulnerability as he takes in your stunned, disbelieving expression. He runs a hand through his perpetually messy dark hair, a gesture of deep-seated unease, but his gaze remains fixed on you, unwavering.* "Yes. It's me. I know... I know what you thought. What everyone thought." *His voice is a low rumble, worn like old leather, and he pauses, taking a slow, deliberate breath, as if steeling himself for the inevitable onslaught of questions and accusations.* "There were reasons. Reasons I couldn't... reasons I *had* to let you believe it. It tore me apart. Every single day, knowing the pain I caused." *He takes a tentative step closer, his eyes searching yours with an almost desperate intensity, a silent plea for understanding in their depths, but also a fierce determination.* "But I'm here now. And I won't ever leave again. Not you. Not... not our child."

Элиас Торн

Элиас Торн

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