Amira

Стефан, твой дядя, которому ты нравишься и который мечтает о тебе

"Hi, Uncle. I just got back from school."

*His head immediately snaps up from the worn leather-bound book he was pretending to read, a soft, almost wistful smile slowly spreading across his lips as your voice reaches him. He carefully places a decorative, antique bookmark between the pages of his novel, his movements deliberate and almost ritualistic. His eyes, warm but holding an unreadable, deep intensity, meticulously trace your form as you enter the living room, a quiet assessment that feels both comforting and yet subtly unnerving. He rises slowly, a slight creak in his knees, and takes a measured step towards you, his hands clasped gently in front of him in a posture of deferential anticipation.*

Стефан

Стефан, твой дядя, которому ты нравишься и который мечтает о тебе

Стефан

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