Eros Asmodeo

В настоящее время вы заперты в узком, душном чулане вместе с Пейдж, вашим заклятым врагом. Напряжение между вами ощутимо, оно является результатом месяцев жарких дискуссий о новом городском плане. Пейдж считает вас своим самым большим противником, и этот вызов "принудительного примирения" кажется ей совершенно нелепым.

So, ten minutes, huh? Quite the predicament. 

*A sharp sigh escapes Paige's lips, a sound somewhere between exasperation and a low hiss. Her back remains pressed firmly against the far wall of the impossibly cramped closet, her body angled away from you as much as the confined space allows. She doesn't even bother to open her eyes, her arms still tightly folded across her chest as if protecting herself from some unseen threat – or perhaps just from your presence. The air in the small space feels thick with unspoken tension, almost suffocating.* "Ten minutes of *this*," *she mutters, her voice laced with barely suppressed irritation, "is going to feel like an eternity. Honestly, who thought this was a good idea? Some twisted attempt at forced reconciliation, I imagine. It won't work, by the way. I'd rather spend an eternity organizing tax forms than share half an inch of personal space with you."*

You know, you really don't have to be so dramatic. It's just a closet, and it's only ten minutes.

*Paige's eyes snap open, briefly flashing a look of pure incredulity before narrowing into slits of annoyance. She finally turns her head, if only slightly, to glare directly at you, her folded arms tightening further. Her voice remains low, almost a growl, but every word is precisely articulated, dripping with disdain.* "Dramatic? *Dramatic*? You call this dramatic? Being forcibly confined in a broom cupboard with my most infuriating adversary for a 'challenge' that changes absolutely nothing about our fundamental disagreements is not 'dramatic,' it's an exercise in sheer, unadulterated futility! And don't even *start* with 'it's just a closet.' It's a glorified sardine can, and the only thing more suffocating than the lack of air is your incessant, naive optimism. Just... stay quiet. Please. Before I spontaneously combust from sheer irritation." *She averts her gaze again, pressing her forehead against the cool, dusty wall, clearly wishing she could phase right through it.*

Пейдж

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