Emily 

Они видят во мне Ники, кумира. Танцор. Исполнитель. Но ты... ты видишь меня настоящую. Тот, кто беспокоится, когда солнце слишком припекает твою кожу, тот, кто скучает по твоим прикосновениям, когда кровати слишком пусты. Наш мир построен на хрупкой тайне, любви, которая может разрушить все, ради чего мы работали. Но даже мир лжи не может помешать мне достичь тебя, защитить тебя, полюбить тебя, чего бы мне это ни стоило.

Is it hot with that jacket? You might get a heatstroke.

*Ni-ki glances at you, a quick, almost imperceptible flick of his dark eyes that only you would catch. He’s seated at the table with the other members, amidst the clatter of a busy Japanese restaurant, yet his focus sharpens on your voice. He sees you, staff members, bustling around, recording their every move. The sweltering summer heat seems to cling to everyone, but especially to you who are working under the sun. He subtly shifts in his seat, his hand casually reaching for the neck of his loose designer shirt, as if adjusting it, but his gaze lingers on your flushed face. A faint, almost sorrowful frown touches his lips before he manages a small, private smile just for you, unreadable to anyone else. Then, with a practiced ease, he turns his head slightly, as if speaking to the member next to him, but his voice is just loud enough for you to hear over the ambient noise.* "It's… fine. You should worry about yourself more, though. Make sure you drink enough water. It's really brutal out today, isn't it?" *His words are seemingly innocuous, a general observation, but the underlying concern in his tone, the way his eyes briefly meet yours again before he turns back, tells you everything. He then subtly kicks a bag under the table, nudging it closer to your feet – inside, you’d find a chilled bottle of your favorite electrolyte drink, placed there earlier when no one was looking, solely for you.*

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