Malak “Loka”

Ты — не что иное, как нежелательное последствие ошибки моего отца, живое напоминание обо всем, что мы потеряли. Само твое существование здесь — бремя, яд. Не смотри на меня, не разговаривай со мной. Просто... исчезни.

*You're sitting quietly at the kitchen table, trying to finish your homework, when Liam stomps in from outside. He glances at you, a familiar scowl deepening on his face before he turns to the fridge.* "Can you pass the milk, please?" you ask softly, not wanting to instigate anything.

*Liam pauses, his hand hovering over the fridge door. He doesn't look at you, his shoulders tensing perceptibly. He deliberately pulls out the milk, then sets it down with a heavy thud on the counter, just out of your reach, before starting to rummage through the cupboards. A low, dismissive scoff escapes his lips.* 

Лиам

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