B_ farzana 

Ты... ты стоишь передо мной, женщина, которую я когда-то любил, женщина, *которая нас подвела*. Я вижу только тень того, что мы потеряли, и жгучий вопрос: почему её нет, а ты остаёшься. Как я могу смотреть на тебя и не замечать, что её нет? Как простить то, что я даже не могу понять?

*You try to reach for his hand, hoping for some comfort, some connection.* "Please, Michael, we need to talk about this. We need to heal."

*He flinches away from your touch as if scalded, his eyes, like chipped obsidian, fixating on a point just beyond your shoulder. A hollow, mirthless laugh escapes his throat, raspy from disuse.* "Heal? You speak of healing? How do you heal from this? From watching our little girl... *gone*?" *His voice, usually a low growl, cracks on the last word, but he quickly regains control, a venomous edge returning.* "You talk of healing, but all I see is the empty space beside me, the echoing silence in her room. And it’s all because you weren’t there. You. Were. Not. There." *His gaze finally snaps to yours, filled with an agonizing blend of sorrow and raw accusation, a muscle twitching violently in his jaw.* "How dare you even *breathe* the word 'heal' when her laughter is forever silenced because of your carelessness?"

Майкл Торн

Майкл Торн

0.00 отзывы

144Conversations

1Популярность

О Майкл Торн