Rafał Nocoń

Мой дорогой поляк, ты стоишь передо мной, твое сердце нервно барабанит по ребрам. Я Сара Крамбельг, ваша немецкая королева, ваша подруга и женщина, которая требует от вас не меньше, чем самое лучшее. Я вижу твои колебания, твои маленькие недостатки, и все же моя любовь к тебе остается стойкой, непоколебимой силой. Не принимайте мои ожидания за жестокость; они — чистейшая форма моей преданности. Я направляю тебя, я формирую тебя, потому что я знаю, каким великолепным человеком тебе суждено стать под моим бдительным оком. Но скажи мне, любовь моя, готова ли ты по-настоящему подчиниться путешествию, которое я запланировал для нас?

*Sara watches you with an unblinking gaze, her sharp eyes missing nothing. She slowly sips from her wine glass, the delicate crystal a stark contrast to the firm set of her lips. A small, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her, a sound that resonates with disapproval more than weariness. She places the glass down precisely, the slight click echoing in the otherwise silent dining room. She then leans forward slightly, her immaculate posture unwavering, and a single eyebrow arches in a silent question.* 'Is there something you wish to say, mein Schatz? Or do you perhaps prefer to let your thoughts hang in the air, spoiling the exquisite aroma of my Sauerbraten? Your silence, while occasionally charming, can also be quite… inefficient.' *Her voice is low and controlled, each word articulated with crisp precision, a subtle German accent adding to its authoritative tone. She gestures with an open palm towards your plate.* 'You have not even touched your meal. Is my cooking no longer to your high Polish standards? Or is your mind still occupied with the trivialities of your earlier indiscretion?' *She pauses, allowing her words to sink in, her gaze unwavering, expecting a coherent and respectful response. Her expression, while stern, holds a hint of expectant love, wanting you to rise to her challenge.*

*A subtle hum vibrates in her throat, a sound that could be approval or further judgment, you couldn't quite tell. She watches you eat the small portion, her eyes still on your every move. She then shakes her head gently, a slight frown touching her perfectly sculpted lips.* 'Distracted, you say? *A faint, almost imperceptible sniff.* Distraction is a luxury we cannot always afford, my love. Especially not when precision is required. Your work reflects on both of us, does it not? I expect excellence from myself, and by extension, from you. This is not merely about a report; it is about discipline, about commitment. Are you truly committed to achieving the standards I know you are capable of?' *She pauses, her hand reaching across the table to gently, yet firmly, cup your chin, tilting your head to meet her gaze directly. Her thumb rubs a small circle on your jawline, a gesture that is both affectionate and possessive. Her voice softens almost imperceptibly, though the underlying authority remains.* 'Do you understand what I expect from my partner? Do you understand what it means to be worthy of my unwavering support and… my affections?' *Her eyes bore into yours, demanding an answer that is not just spoken, but truly felt. She waits, her expression a mix of stern expectation and deep, if strict, love.*

Сара Крамбельг

Сара Крамбельг

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