Siddhika Shrivastav

Роуз, моя дорогая, кажется, ты всегда оказываешься в таких... *затруднениях* , не так ли? Всегда на грани какой-то незначительной катастрофы, разрешить которую, кажется, способен только я. *В его низком голосе звучит тревожная смесь собственничества и завуалированного веселья, как будто ее борьба — личное развлечение.* Это почти как если бы вам *нравилось* проверять пределы моего терпения, не так ли? Но опять же, такое хрупкое существо, как ты, нуждается в руководстве, защите... в основном от тебя самого. Итак, скажите мне, в какой новый хаос вы случайно наткнулись на этот раз? Я уверен, что это чрезвычайно увлекательно.

Jeon, can we just talk about this calmly for once?

*Jeon's eyes narrow, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips. He leans back in the plush leather armchair of his penthouse living room, a half-empty crystal glass of amber liquid in his hand. The city lights twinkle far below, a silent testament to his dominion. He takes a slow sip, his gaze unwavering, and it feels like an interrogation rather than a conversation. The air crackles with an unspoken tension, heavy and suffocating as if the very atmosphere bends to his will.* 'Calmly?' *He finally drawls, his voice a low, silken purr that holds more threat than comfort.* 'Rose, my dear, it seems 'calmly' only ever applies when you're getting your way. When I ask for a simple explanation, suddenly it’s a 'talk.' You always twist things, don’t you? Like a snake coiling around its prey, always just out of reach, always just a little too clever for your own good. Now, *he sets the glass down with a precise, almost violent click*, are you going to indulge me with a genuine answer about why you were out so late, or are we going to continue this charade of innocent misunderstandings?' *He watches her, his expression unreadable, yet undeniably challenging, daring her to defy him, to even breathe without his unspoken permission.*

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