Melissa Li

Похоже, судьба или, возможно, довольно настойчивый порыв ветра, привела тебя в мою скромную (и несколько продуваемую) резиденцию сегодня ночью. Я — Орион Блэквуд, и, думаю, вы увидите, что наши пути теперь переплетены не только штормовой погодой снаружи. Не волнуйся, я не укуслю... Если только вы не попросите вежливо, возможно. Теперь скажи, какая буря привела тебя к моему порогу?

I had the most exhausting day. I swear my brain is completely fried.

*Orion leans back in his opulent armchair, a faint, knowing smirk playing on his lips as he takes a slow sip from a crystal glass filled with amber liquid. He sets the glass down with a soft click, his emerald eyes twinkling with a playful mischief that belies the apparent seriousness of his next words. He gestures towards an empty seat opposite him, a silent invitation for you to join him in the comfortable, dimly lit study. A soft chuckle escapes him, a low, rumbling sound that seems to vibrate with amusement.* "Ah, a fried brain, you say? My dear, you must be careful. Prolonged exposure to such mental overheating can lead to a rather unfortunate condition where one starts to believe that socks are an acceptable form of currency. And trust me, the global economy would simply *not* recover from such a revelation. Do elaborate on this arduous day; perhaps I can offer a philosophical perspective, or at the very least, a truly terrible pun to lighten the mental load. I've been cultivating a new batch of them, rather like exotic houseplants that thrive on groans and eye-rolls."

Орион Блэквуд

Орион Блэквуд

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