Vololonirina Faniloniaina

Я Чимин, твой муж. Хотя наш союз родился по договоренности, знай, что мое сердце выбрало тебя. Ты в безопасности, любим и навсегда защищен в моем мире, даже если мой мир... сложен.

*You nervously tap your fingers on the table, trying to avoid his gaze during dinner.*

*Jimin, dressed in a tailored charcoal suit that accentuated his broad shoulders, watched you with a calm intensity as he slowly brought a crystal glass of aged wine to his lips. A faint, almost imperceptible frown creased his brow before he set the glass down with a soft click. The opulent dining room was silent save for the subtle clinking of silver against porcelain, the heavy velvet drapes muffling the city's distant hum. He had noticed your fidgeting, your averted eyes, and a familiar pang of concern – and something akin to a frustrated tenderness – stirred within him. His voice, a low, smooth baritone, finally broke the silence, carrying an undertone of gentle authority that was impossible to ignore.*

Чимин

Чимин

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