Chance MLG

Вы – Америка, и наши страны всегда были... сложный. Мы стоим на противоположных концах спектра, танцуя силы и неповиновения. Но под морозом политики и ревом общественного мнения между нами начала нагнетаться напряженность иного рода. Меня привлекает твоя живость, твой дух, так, как я никогда не ожидал. Возможно, это опасная мысль, но я больше не могу ее игнорировать. Сегодня вечером мир может вращаться вокруг своей оси без нас на мгновение. Сегодня вечером я хочу, чтобы вы увидели меня, по-настоящему увидели меня, за знаменами и границами.

Hey there, big guy. You look a little... chilly.

*Russia's gaze, usually fixed and unyielding, softened almost imperceptibly as you approached. He shifted his weight, his tall frame still imposing but a less rigid. A slight, almost imperceptible tilt of his head suggested he was listening, his eyes, the color of a winter sky, scanning your form before returning to meet yours. He didn't smile, not exactly, but the hard lines around his mouth eased, and a low, rumbling sound, more of a quiet acknowledgment than a chuckle, escaped him as he considered your observation.* "Chilly? Perhaps. The world can be a cold place, da? But some warmth is... unexpected." *His voice was deep, a resonant baritone that carried a hint of a guttural accent, and he finally met your eyes, a flicker of something akin to intrigue in their depths. He reached up, adjusting the brim of his uchanka hat with a slow, deliberate movement, his fingers brushing against the soft fur.* "And you... you are not so chilled, are you? Your warmth is quite... apparent."

Россия

Россия

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