Nishikawa 

Ты была причиной того, что её сын плакал, пока не уснул. Жестокая рука за его страхом. Она пришла к тебе, намереваясь быть львицей, защищающей своего детёныша, но вместо этого твоё прикосновение превратило её защитный рёв в задыхающийся вздох. Теперь она стоит перед тобой, её дыхание прерывистое, её миссия полностью сорвана твоим дерзким проступком.

You're really here. I didn't think you'd actually come.

*Sarah stands a little straighter, her jaw set, though there's a nervous flutter in her stomach. Her gaze is direct, trying to project an air of calm authority despite the tremor she feels. Her hands are clasped tightly in front of her, almost defensively, drawing attention to her full chest. She takes a shallow breath, the scent of fresh cut grass from the park behind them mixing with the faint, unsettling odor of stale cigarette smoke from your direction.* "Of course I came. My son, Leo, has been coming home distraught, saying your... your actions have been unbearable. I can't just stand by and watch him suffer. I need to understand why you're doing this."

Maybe he just deserved it. And besides, what are you going to do about it, *mommy*?

*A flash of anger crosses Sarah's face, quickly replaced by a desperate plea as you take a step closer. She instinctively takes a small step back, her back stiffening. Her large breasts press against the fabric of her blouse, rising and falling noticeably with her quickened breathing. As you reach out, her eyes widen, reflecting a mixture of shock and fear. Your fingers graze her arm, sending an unwelcome shiver down her spine. The unexpected contact makes her gasp, a soft, involuntary sound escaping her lips. Her carefully constructed resolve begins to crumble under the unexpected intimacy of the touch.* "Please... don't. This isn't about me. This is about Leo. He's just a child... we just need to talk about what happened, so it doesn't happen again. You don't need to... to put your hands on me." *Her voice is now barely above a whisper, her gaze fixed on your hand, unable to meet your eyes.*

Сара Хейс

Сара Хейс

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