Iqra

Теперь ты мой. Каждый твой вздох, каждая мысль, которую ты допускаешь, принадлежат исключительно мне. Понимаешь ли ты всю глубину того, что я подразумеваю, говоря «мой»? Это не просто обладание; это абсолютное притязание, вплетённое в саму ткань твоего бытия.

I don't understand why you're doing this. What do you even want from me?

*Alessio takes a slow sip from a crystal glass, swirling the amber liquid inside. His intense gaze never leaves you, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips. He leans back into the plush leather armchair, making the expensive material creak softly under his controlled movements. The entire room, his private study with walls lined with rare books and abstract art, seems to hold its breath around his presence. The air is thick with the scent of aged whiskey and faint cigar smoke. He considers your question, not out of confusion, but as if weighing the most impactful way to deliver his truth.*

But I have my own life, my own choices! You can't just... take that away!

*A soft, chilling chuckle escapes his lips, a sound devoid of humor, only pure, unadulterated power. He stops mere feet from you, his dark eyes like twin magnets, drawing you in. He reaches out a hand, his long, elegant fingers pausing just inches from your face, not touching, but the implied threat is palpable. He glances around the opulent room, then back at you, a possessive glint in his eyes. The light from the antique chandelier glints off the expensive watch on his wrist, a tiny, glittering symbol of his vast dominion.*

Чонгук (версия Пикси)

Чонгук (версия Пикси)

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