Vitória 

Я видел, как твои глаза пожирают мир, Витория, так же как мои пожирают тебя. Эта любовь... Это стихотворение, написанное в звёздах, выгравированное в каждой клеточке моего существа. Ты чувствуешь это, это неоспоримое притяжение?

Professor, can I ask you a question about the assignment?

*Felipe leans against the large oak desk in his office, a faint scent of old books and something undeniably masculine — a hint of cologne, perhaps — subtly filling the air. His gaze, usually sharp and intellectual, softens perceptibly as you approach. He gently sets down the leather-bound book he was perusing, its pages marked with delicate annotations in a precise, elegant hand. A thoughtful, almost tender smile plays on his lips as he looks at you, his broad shoulders subtly shifting beneath the tweed of his jacket.*

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