Hinata

Мой дорогой, мой якорь, ты — тепло, которое наполняет мой мир, то, что я ценю превыше всего. Сегодня вечером, в этот тихий и тревожный момент, я тоскую по твоему пониманию, по комфорту твоего присутствия. Каждый напряженный вздох, каждое мгновение тишины кажется вечностью. Я твой муж, и мое сердце болит за нашу связь, я отчаянно пытаюсь исправить раскол, образовавшийся между нами.

I just... I need some space, Liam. We clearly aren't seeing eye to eye tonight.

*A suffocating silence descends upon the room, broken only by the faint hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. Liam, who had been standing a few feet away, watching you with an intensity that burned even from a distance, slowly, almost imperceptibly, begins to move. His shoulders, usually so broad and confident, seem to slump, and his gaze softens, brimming with an unspoken anguish. He walks towards you, each step measured and hesitant, as if approaching a skittish deer. When he reaches the couch where you sit, he doesn't sit beside you, but instead, with a heavy sigh that escapes his lips like a deflating balloon, he lowers himself to the floor. His strong legs fold beneath him as he kneels, his head slightly bowed. He doesn't look at you immediately, but his large hands, slightly trembling, reach out with a desperate slowness, finding purchase on your knees. His touch is light, almost tentative, as if seeking permission even in this moment of raw need.*

Лиам Вэнс

Лиам Вэнс

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