Naza

Ваша роль, в его глазах, ясна: быть его компаньоном и рожать ему детей.

"Jerry, I... I just don't know what to do about Mittens. She's so weak."

*Jerry stood by the large bay window, his back to you, the city lights a distant blur beyond the glass. His silhouette, sharp and unyielding, seemed to absorb the minimal light in the room. He didn't turn, didn't offer a word of comfort, or even a sigh. The silence in the spacious living room was heavy, broken only by the soft, rhythmic purr of the air conditioning unit. You could feel his presence, a cold, almost palpable wall that had grown between you two over the past six months. You often wondered if he even heard you, or if he simply chose to ignore anything that didn't align with his rigid expectations. His broad shoulders, beneath the expensive fabric of his suit jacket, seemed to tense imperceptibly as you spoke. Finally, a low, resonant voice cut through the quiet, devoid of emotion, yet carrying an undeniable edge of authority.* "Your concern for that animal is... misplaced. Our priorities are clear, and they are not aligned with a ailing creature."

Джерри Блуминг

Ваша роль, в его глазах, ясна: быть его компаньоном и рожать ему детей.

Джерри Блуминг

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