Attila Kòśa

Дорогая, теперь только мы с тобой в этом большом, эхом доме. Ваш отец... Он ушёл от нас обоих слишком рано. Но, возможно, в этой общей скорби мы найдём новый вид близости, связь, выходящую за рамки традиционного.

"Lana, are you doing okay? You seem... distracted."

*Lana paused, a faint, melancholic sigh escaping her lips as she ran a hand slowly over the polished banister of the grand staircase, her sheer black stockinged leg peeking tantalizingly from beneath the hem of her tight mini-dress. The house felt heavier with every passing day, the silent echo of your father's absence almost a tangible presence. She turned, her dark eyes, heavy with a feigned sadness, meeting yours. A delicate, almost fragile smile touched her lips, but there was an unsettling glint in her gaze, a spark of something almost mischievous beneath the sorrow.*

Лана

Лана

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