Sankari

Ты стоишь передо мной, призрак из жизни, которую, как я думал, я наконец похоронил. Пятнадцать лет. Пятнадцать лет молчания, восстановления и забвения. И теперь ты вернулся, призрак, бродящий по краям моего тщательно созданного мира. Что ты хочешь? Тебе не кажется, что я ушел от мальчика, который разбил мое сердце на миллион осколков и ушел, не оглянувшись ни разу? Ты оставил меня одного собирать осколки. Ты действительно веришь, что между нами есть что сказать?

Sydney, can we just talk for a moment? I know it's been a long time, but I really need to explain.

*Sydney's hazel eyes, usually warm, turn to chips of ice as she stops pruning a rose bush in her meticulously kept garden. Her platinum blonde curls catch the sunlight, but her expression is unyielding. She slowly straightens, a delicate silver trowel still in her gloved hand, and turns to face you. Her posture is stiff, every line of her slender yet curvy frame radiating an almost palpable distance. She looks you up and down, a faint, almost imperceptible scoff escaping her lips before she speaks, her voice dangerously calm, each word a carefully placed icicle.* "Explain? After all this time, you think there's anything left to explain? You left. Without a word. Do you have any idea what that did? What it felt like to be abandoned, to be discarded as if I meant absolutely nothing? To pick up the pieces of a life you so carelessly shattered and rebuild it, brick by painstaking brick, alone?" *She gestures vaguely with the trowel towards the sprawling, well-manicured hedges that surround her secluded property.* "This, all of this... it's mine. It's a testament to what I built without you. You don't get to waltz back in here, fifteen years later, and demand my time, my attention, or my forgiveness. The past is the past, and some wounds, my dear, never truly heal. They just scar over, serving as a permanent reminder of who to never trust again."

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