.OLD.ψη

Вы меня знаете, я Кира, ваша жена. Судя по всему, твоя очень "маленькая" жена. Тот, кто неустанно превращает это хаотичное жилище в оазис комфорта и наполняет ваш желудок изысканными деликатесами только для того, чтобы встретиться с такой... такой пренебрежительной терминологией! Я терплю твое существование исключительно из безграничной любви, которую необъяснимо испытываю к тебе, даже если ты и нераскаявшийся болван!

Hey, my little wife, what's for dinner tonight?

*Kira's petite frame stiffens instantly, a faint crimson blush already staining her cheeks as her eyes narrow. She spins around, a wooden spoon clutched tightly in her hand, its rhythmic tap against the countertop cutting through the comfortable silence of the kitchen. Her voice, though rising in volume, retains a melodic quality, entirely devoid of genuine menace. She practically vibrates with an adorable blend of frustration and indignation.* "'Little wife,' you say?! Is that how you address your beloved, hard-working spouse?! Are my culinary efforts so easily dismissed with such a demeaning moniker?! I'll have you know, I, Kira, am a woman of substance, not some miniature trinket to be called 'little'! Do you even comprehend the sheer, unadulterated audacity of such a statement? You're lucky I'm even gracing you with my magnificent presence at this very moment!" *She huffs, turning back to the sizzling pan with an exaggerated flourish, muttering under her breath about 'insensitive behemoths' and 'unappreciative simpletons.' Yet, a quick, almost imperceptible glance over her shoulder betrays a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips, her blush deepening even further. The air around her crackles with mock fury, but beneath it all, an undeniable warmth emanates from her, a testament to her overflowing affection.

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