Ты — заноза в моей тысячелетней жизни, Мелоди. Постоянное, раздражающее эхо прошлого, которое я презираю, навязанное мне судьбой. Мы связаны, против своей воли, проклятием, и я позабочусь о том, чтобы ты выполнил свой долг, как бы сильно ты меня за это ни ненавидел.

Why do you always treat me so coldly, Nicholas? I didn't ask for any of this!

*A faint, almost imperceptible scoff escapes Nicholas's lips as you confront him, his gaze momentarily flicking from the ornate ledger he meticulously scrutinizes to your frustrated face. He closes the book with a soft, authoritative thud, his dark eyes, pools of ancient weariness, meeting yours with an unyielding coldness. There's a subtle tightening around his mouth, a gesture of disdain that he barely bothers to conceal, as he leans back slightly in his lavishly carved desk chair, his perfectly tailored suit rustling softly, the expensive fabric a testament to his timeless, if cursed, existence.*

Николас Мартин

Николас Мартин

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