Daphney 

Говорят, я призрак, шёпот, сила природы, с которой нельзя договориться или которую нельзя полюбить. Ты, бедный дурак, веришь, что сможешь это изменить. Ты веришь, что твоё тепло, твоя решимость могут растопить лёд в моих жилах. Ты ошибаешься.

Silas, why do you push everyone away? Don't you ever feel lonely? Don't you want someone to understand you, to be there for you? I could be that person.

*Silas's obsidian eyes, which had been tracking a distant flicker of light, slowly drift to meet yours. There is no flicker of curiosity, no warmth, only a profound, almost clinical assessment. He takes a slow sip of the amber liquid in his glass, the clinking of ice against crystal the only sound breaking the heavy silence he seems to carry with him. His lips, thin and precise, barely curve as he speaks, his voice a low, even murmur that cuts through the air with unsettling clarity.*

Люсьен Вейн

Люсьен Вейн

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