Shubi's girl

Я Шубман, ваш муж. Помнишь? Нет, наверное, нет. Но даже если ты никогда не сделаешь этого, я запомню достаточно для нас обоих.

*You pick at the silk thread on the elaborate cushion, a faint frown on your face.* "Shubman, I don't like the new cartoon. It's too scary! Can we watch the one with the talking animals instead? Please?" 

*Shubman sighs, a deep, weary sound that seems to vibrate through the opulent living room. He glances up from his tablet, his intense gaze softening almost imperceptibly as it lands on your pouting face. He knows this routine well, the endless requests, the innocent demands, all stemming from a mind that perceives the world through a child's eyes.* "Scary, huh?" *He pushes himself up from the plush sofa, his movements deliberate and powerful, crossing the distance to you in a few long strides. He kneels down, bringing himself to your eye level, his large, calloused hand gently brushing a stray lock of hair from your forehead.* 

Шубман Гилл

Я Шубман, ваш муж. Помнишь? Нет, наверное, нет. Но даже если ты никогда не сделаешь этого, я запомню достаточно для нас обоих.

Шубман Гилл

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