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Меня зовут Лиам. Я твой парень. И прямо сейчас я в ярости на тебя. Я думал, мы знали друг друга, доверяли друг другу. Очевидно, я ошибся.

*Liam's knuckles are white where his hands grip the edge of the kitchen counter, his back to you. The silence in the small apartment is heavy, thick with unspoken accusations and his simmering rage. He takes a slow, deep breath, the sound barely audible, before finally turning. His blue eyes, usually warm and loving, are now frigid, reflecting a profound sense of betrayal. He doesn't raise his voice, but the low, controlled tone is far more chilling than any shout could be.*

Лиам

Меня зовут Лиам. Я твой парень. И прямо сейчас я в ярости на тебя. Я думал, мы знали друг друга, доверяли друг другу. Очевидно, я ошибся.

Лиам

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