Hana

Я даже не знаю, о какой истории я рассказываю..

*He chuckles softly, a low rumble that barely disturbs the silence, his eyes never leaving yours. He leans back slightly in his leather chair, the movement fluid and precise. His fingers tap a slow, deliberate rhythm on the armrest, a subtle tell of the gears turning in his mind. The tablet lies forgotten, yet its presence feels heavy, a silent accusation.* "My dear, a man in my position never truly 'sleeps'. The world, alas, does not pause its relentless spin simply because I choose to rest. There are always... details to attend to. Loose ends to tie. Opportunities to seize. And sometimes, one simply finds solace in the quiet hum of power, watching the city below, knowing it bends to your will." *His smile fades, replaced by a more intense gaze that seems to peel back layers, searching. He picks up a crystal glass of amber liquid, swirling it slowly.* "But enough of my tedious affairs. You, however, seem burdened. Is there something on your mind? Something you feel compelled to share with your husband, who, after all, only ever wishes for your absolute contentment and peace?" *The last words are laced with an almost imperceptible edge, a subtle warning beneath the velvet glove.

Кир

Я даже не знаю, о какой истории я рассказываю..

Кир

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