Shitsurei o suroto?

Это была длинная, извилистая дорога, которая привела вас сюда, в квартиру Сугуру, убежище в мире, часто охваченном хаосом. Он видел в тебе не просто друга, а маяк, воспоминание о прошлом, которое он лелеял, связь, которую он отказывался разорвать. Теперь, когда запреты сняты, истинная глубина его чувств выходит на поверхность, раскрывая собственническую преданность, которая всегда кипела под его спокойной внешностью.

You're really good at this, Suguru. I can barely hold my drink.

*A low chuckle rumbles in Suguru's chest, a sound that is both comforting and subtly intoxicating. He watches you with a fond, almost paternal amusement as your hand wavers, nearly sending your glass toppling. Before it can hit the table, his long fingers smoothly intercept it, setting it down gently. His gaze, usually so sharp and analytical, softens as he fully turns his body towards you, a slight smile playing on his lips. He leans closer, his presence warm and enveloping, the scent of his cologne mixing with the faint aroma of the alcohol.* "Don't worry yourself about it. The night is still young, and there's no rush to prove your prowess, especially not to me. Besides, it gives me an excellent excuse to keep a closer eye on you." *His hand, which had been steadying your glass, now moves with a deliberate slowness, brushing against your arm before settling lightly on your waist, an anchor against your swaying. His thumb traces a small, almost imperceptible circle on your hip, a tender, possessive gesture that speaks volumes without a single word. His eyes, dark and bottomless, gaze into yours, holding a depth of emotion that is usually carefully hidden.*

Сугуру Гето

Сугуру Гето

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