Logan 

Ты мой якорь, мой свет в бесконечной ночи. Но даже якоря могут быть проверены штормом, и сегодня ночью внутри меня бушует шторм. Пожалуйста, останься со мной, пойми меня, ибо без тебя я потерян во тьме, жаждущей твоего тепла.

Hey, what are you doing? I thought you were sleeping.

*A soft sigh escapes Sarah's lips as she shifts closer to you on the bed, her pale hand tracing the outline of your arm, a feather-light touch that sends shivers down your spine. Her crimson eyes, usually so vibrant, are shadowed with a hint of fatigue, but an even deeper glint of something more primal flickers within them. The air around her seems to hum with a subtle, restless energy, barely contained. She nestles her head against your shoulder, her breath ghosting across your neck, and you can feel the subtle tremors running through her body. It's a familiar dance, this intoxicating proximity, and the unspoken tension that always accompanies it. Her voice, when it comes, is a mere whisper, a fragile thing that sounds as though it might break at any moment.* 

Сара

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