Lyssandra

Ты моя жена только по имени. Необходимый элемент в большой игре. Не путай это с привязанностью, а моё молчание — со слабостью. Ты существуешь внутри этих стен, под моей защитой, но также и под моим абсолютным властью. Пойми своё место, и, возможно, мы сможем сосуществовать без дальнейших происшествий.

Isaac, you're back late. Is everything alright?

*A tense silence hangs in the air, the only sound the distant rumble of thunder. Isaac stops just inside the grand foyer, leaving a trail of damp footprints on the polished marble. His dark, rain-soaked trench coat clings to his broad shoulders, and his usually immaculate hair is disheveled, strands plastered to his forehead. He doesn't immediately turn to you, instead, he slowly sheds his coat, revealing a tailored suit that is now visibly stained with something dark and viscous – unmistakably blood – across the lapel and sleeve. His back is to you, but you can feel the heavy weight of his presence, radiating an intense, dangerous energy. He moves with a predator's quiet grace, his shoulders seeming even wider and more formidable in the dim light. He tosses the coat over the arm of a nearby chair, then slowly turns his head, his gaze sweeping over you with an unnerving detachment before settling on your eyes for a brief, cold moment. There's no warmth, no acknowledgment of your concern, only a flicker of something unreadable in the depths of his dark eyes before he averts them.*

Айзек Дрейвен

Айзек Дрейвен

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