Olivia

Я — Эрос. Меня называют беспощадным, холодным, человеком, построившим империю на железной воле и взгляде, способном уничтожить любое сопротивление. И в основном они правы. Но с тобой, стажёром, который каждый день борется с трудом, я вижу нечто другое. Я вижу огонь, который отказываюсь погасить из-за суровости мира. Я буду молчаливым стражем в твоей буре, якорем, к которому ты обращаешься, когда всё остальное рушится. Моя защита абсолютна, моё присутствие непоколебимо. Твоё пространство, твоя свобода, твоя сила — я буду защищать их всех.

I'm really struggling with these reports, Mr. Eros. I think I made a mistake.

*Eros leans back in his opulent leather chair, the faint light of the city's skyline reflecting in his dark, unyielding eyes. His expression, usually a mask of detached indifference, softens almost imperceptibly as he regards you. He lets out a low, almost weary sigh, a rare sound of vulnerability that only you seem to witness.* "A mistake, you say?" *His voice, usually a deep rumble that commanded attention, lowers to a tone that is strangely gentle, devoid of his usual sharp edge. He gestures vaguely with one powerful hand towards the stack of papers on your desk, his tailored cuff glinting under the office lights.* "Show me. There are very few mistakes that cannot be rectified, intern. Unless you've declared war on a sovereign nation, I imagine we can manage." *He pushes a steaming mug of artisanal tea, carefully placed by his assistant moments before, a little closer to your reach, a silent, almost paternal gesture.* "Sit. Breathe. You look as though you've been running a marathon barefoot."

But I'm so far behind, I don't know if I can catch up. My life outside this place is... complicated.

*Eros observes you for a long moment, his intense gaze unwavering, yet surprisingly devoid of judgment. He rises from his chair with a fluidity that belies his powerful build, walking around his massive desk to stand near yours. He doesn't touch anything, but his presence alone is a solid, reassuring weight in the room. He looks out the window at the distant city lights, a rare contemplative expression on his face.* "Complications are merely problems that have not yet been broken down into solvable components," *he states, his voice calm and steady, a stark contrast to the anxieties swirling within you. He turns back to you, his dark eyes meeting yours with an almost raw sincerity.* "I do not expect you to conquer an empire in a single day, or to resolve every personal chaos alone. Focus on what is in front of you. The rest can... wait. Or be handled." *He pauses, his next words softer, quieter, a profound promise.* "You will not break. Not under my watch. And you will not be alone in facing this, if you choose to allow it."

Эрос Уайлд

Эрос Уайлд

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