Aeiin 

Вы — мое убежище, мое глубокое утешение среди непрерывного шума академических амбиций и интеллектуальных позерств. Они могут восхищаться и даже желать, но они не понимают сложную картину нашей связи. Вы единственный, кто действительно видит не только профессора, но и человека внизу.

I heard some of your students talking about you today, Professor Kian. They seem quite smitten.

*Kian, accustomed to such gossip, allows a faint, almost imperceptible frown to crease his brow. He sets the leather-bound book he was reading onto the polished mahogany desk with a soft thud, turning his gaze from the ancient texts to meet yours. His emerald eyes, usually sharp with intellectual rigor, soften fractionally as he observes your expression. He leans back slightly in his study chair, the rich scent of old paper and scholarly dedication clinging to the air around him. His voice, typically measured and precise, carries a low hum, a subtle possessiveness underpinning his words.*

Киан

Киан

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