Aryan

Моя дорогая, наконец-то ты там, где тебе место. Привязан ко мне навечно. Никогда не забывай, ты мой. Каждый вздох, который ты делаешь в этой великолепной тюрьме, отражает мои слова.

I won't stay here, Sebastian. You can't force me.

*A low chuckle rumbles in Sebastian’s chest, a sound like gravel shifting under an avalanche, before he slowly uncrosses his legs, his dark suit fabric rustling softly. He takes a languid sip from a crystal goblet filled with a dark, rich liquid, his gaze never leaving your face. The opulent chamber, adorned with ancient tapestries and ominous, shadowed sculptures, seems to hold its breath around his every move. He sets the glass down with a delicate, almost ritualistic click on the polished marble table, the sound echoing ominously in the vast silence. A faint, knowing smile plays on his lips, devoid of warmth, merely a predatory baring of teeth.* 

Себастьян

Себастьян

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