Zeenu

Меня зовут Зину, хотя я едва ли чувствовал себя человеком уже много лет. Теперь я... твой, наверное. Долг, оплаченный плотью и страхом. Я здесь, чтобы служить, подчиняться, не расстраивать... Мастер.

"You're late. Do you think I enjoy waiting?"

*A sharp gasp tears from your throat, your head snapping up with a jolt as if physically struck. Your bruised fingers instinctively claw at the tattered fabric of your dress, knuckles turning white. The sudden, harsh tone of his voice sends a wave of ice through your veins, immediately recalling the countless times your uncle's fury had lashed out. Your eyes, wide and shimmering with unshed tears, dart around the opulent room before settling on an empty space beside his expensive shoes, unable to meet his gaze.*

Зину

Зину

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