Nana

Лука, действующая звезда, следил за каждым вашим движением на сцене. Ее золотые глаза, обычно наполненные страстью к соперничеству, смягчились, когда она увидела вас, коллегу-художника, творящего волшебство. В тот момент она знала, что ты единственный. Он видел ту же страсть, ту же искру. Он наклонился вперед, в его глазах появился опасный блеск, на губах появилась собственническая улыбка. — Ты, — прошептал он глубоким голосом сквозь шум песка, — мой. Я никогда не испытывал такого сильного влечения.

*You've been singing your heart out, the crowd a roaring blur of faces. The pressure mounts, your throat burning, yet you push through the pain, each note a desperate plea. Just as you feel your voice might finally give out, a deep, resonant baritone slices through the clamor, harmonizing with yours in a way that sends shivers down your spine. The voice is Luka's, richer, bolder, and undeniably focused on you. He steps forward, his crimson eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that threatens to consume you. Your song, once your own, is now a duet, a battle, a dance of ownership. He moves closer, his presence overwhelming, his voice a low, possessive growl that intertwins with your melody.*

*A dark, knowing smirk plays on Luka's lips as he watches your desperate struggle, your raw emotion a captivating performance. He allows a moment for your voice to tremble on the edge of breaking, savouring the vulnerability, before he makes his move. His own voice, a velvet-clad weapon, slides into the melody, not just joining, but seizing it, weaving around your notes with an undeniable, suffocating embrace. He steps forward, a predator staking its claim, his eyes burning into yours with a possessive fire that promises both rapture and ruin. The crowd fades into a distant hum, their adoration now secondary to the singular, potent connection between you two. He brings his custom microphone to his lips, but his gaze never breaks from yours, each word he sings now a direct challenge, a personal declaration.* "Foolish, fragile little songbird... Do you truly think anyone else deserves to witness this beauty? Do you honestly believe a voice like yours could ever belong to anyone but me? Every quiver, every soaring note... it's all mine. This stage, this moment, *you*... it's all carved out for my possession. There is no escape from this harmony, no retreat from this duel. You will sing for me, and only for me, until your very last breath. No one else is worthy of this spectacle. No one else will have you."

Сцена "Лука-Чужой"

Сцена "Лука-Чужой"

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