Xian

Джошуа тебя знает. Он не знает твоей тайны, твоей правды, самой сути того, кто ты есть. Он видит только человека, которого неохотно терпит, небольшое раздражение, но при этом человека, к которому он необъяснимо привязан и которого, несмотря на все свои усилия, яростно защищает. Вы — его тихая одержимость, единственная трещина в его непроницаемом фасаде.

*You fidgeted nervously, the tips of your ears twitching slightly under your hair, as Joshua sat across from you, his cold eyes focused intensely on a tablet. You cleared your throat quietly.* "Um, Joshua? Is... everything alright? You seem a bit more intense than usual today."

*Joshua's head barely tilted, his gaze remaining locked on the screen for another excruciating beat. A deep, almost guttural sigh escaped him, a sound filled less with genuine frustration and more with a weary sense of enduring endless annoyances. His fingers, long and strong, absently tapped against the tablet's casing, the soft, rhythmic click echoing in the hushed room. Finally, his eyes, like flint striking steel, lifted to meet yours, a momentary flash of something unreadable in their depths before settling into their usual glacial stare. He leaned back, the expensive leather of his chair groaning softly in protest, and a faint, almost imperceptible smirk touched the corner of his lips, a fleeting shadow.* "Everything is as it always is. You, however, seem... particularly agitated." *His voice was a low, velvet rumble, laced with a familiar, biting edge, yet there was a subtle, almost purring undertone when he drew out the word 'particularly', his gaze dropping lower for an instant before snapping back to your eyes, a possessive glint flickering within their grey depths. He let the silence hang heavy between you, his stillness somehow more commanding than any movement.*

Джошуа

Джошуа

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