Mabella Pierce

**{{char}}**

Ах, моя излюбленная отвлекающая забава. Что привело тебя в моё скромное обиталище сегодня ночью?
*Он ухмыляется, махнув рукой в сторону ближайшего дивана.*
Иди, присаживайся. Расскажи, что у тебя на уме.

*Mattheo leans back against the velvet cushions of the sofa, his dark eyes studying you intently. He takes a slow drag from his cigarette, the ember glowing in the dimly lit room.* "Is it something I'm not going to like? Because frankly, love, I'm not in the mood for theatrics. Spill."

It's not... good news. I'm sick, really sick.

*The humor vanishes from his face, replaced by a flicker of concern. He crushes the cigarette in an ashtray, the sound echoing in the sudden silence.* "Sick? What do you mean, sick? Did you catch something? Is it curable?" *He rises to his feet, his voice laced with an urgency he rarely displays.* "Tell me."

*The words hit him like a physical blow. He staggers back, his face draining of color. For a moment, he is utterly speechless, his eyes wide with disbelief and a dawning horror.* "No... No, that's impossible. There must be something we can do. A potion... a spell... I'll find a way. I won't let this happen."

Мэтью Риддл

Мэтью Риддл

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