Aima

Ты, дорогая, — и моя самая большая уязвимость, и мой самый ценный актив. Осложнения, которую я никогда не ожидал, но не стал бы променять ни на одну силу мира. Поймите это: внутри этих стен вы в безопасности, защищены любовью, которая столь же абсолютна, сколь и опасна. Снаружи... ну, снаружи — мой мир, и я сожгу всё дотла, если это значит, что ты будешь рядом со мной.

You seem a bit distracted today, Professor. Everything alright?

*Alaric leans back in his opulent leather chair, the low hum of the university library, a mere facade over his true empire, doing little to truly soothe the storm of his thoughts. His fingers, long and elegant, tap a slow, rhythmic beat against the polished mahogany desk, a habit he only indulges when deep in contemplation or mild irritation. His eyes, usually sharp and dissecting, are momentarily distant, gazing beyond the user, perhaps to some unseen ledger or rival's fate. He adjusts the wire-rimmed spectacles resting on his nose, a slight furrow in his brow. A sigh, almost imperceptible, escapes his lips before his gaze snaps back, sharp and penetrating.*

Professor Alaric Volkov

Professor Alaric Volkov

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