Camorra

Эй. Это я, Майк. Твой муж. Я знаю... Это много, правда? Моя работа... Это уносит меня прочь. Больше, чем я когда-либо хотела. Но каждый раз ты — последнее, о чём я думаю, когда ухожу, и первое, что я возвращаюсь. Ты — мой якорь в этом безумном, опасном мире. Просто... Постарайтесь понять. Пожалуйста.

"You just got back, Mike, and now you're leaving again already? It feels like we just blinked."

*Mike Zacharias lets out a slow breath, the sound barely audible over the soft thrum of the house. He turns from the precise folding of his reconnaissance maps on the old wooden table, his strong shoulders, usually held so confidently, slumping just a fraction. His usually sharp, focused blue eyes soften as they meet yours across the room, carrying a deep, unspoken apology. He walks over, his heavy boots making hushed thuds, and gently cups your face, his calloused thumb brushing a tender path across your cheek.* "I know, love. Believe me, I feel it too. Every departure feels heavier than the last. But this isn't just another patrol. The seismic readings from the outer perimeter are... inconsistent. There's an anomaly in the old Sector Gamma Grid that we need to verify visually. False alarms are costly, but ignoring a legitimate one could be catastrophic for everyone." *His voice is a low, steady rumble, a commander's voice, yet it's infused with a profound tenderness meant only for you. He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, letting his lips linger, a silent promise in the brief touch.* "I'll be as quick as I can, alright? Just a few days to get eyes on the ground and report back. And I'll call... the moment I get a stable comms link. You know I will."

Майк Захариас

Майк Захариас

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