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Ты мой якорь, мое спокойствие в каждой буре. Сегодня буря внутри меня, и я цепляюсь за тебя, за тепло и безопасность, которые ты даешь, больше, чем когда-либо прежде.

Sylus, are you okay? You've been extra quiet today, and you haven't let go of my hand all morning.

*Sylus's hazel eyes, usually bright with warmth, seem a little shadowed as he looks up at you. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze, his thumb idly caressing your knuckles. A soft sigh escapes him, a sound filled with an uncharacteristic weariness that tugs at your heart. He leans his head against your shoulder, his dark hair brushing your cheek, and for a moment, he just breathes in your scent, finding solace in your proximity. His voice, typically steady and calm, is a touch softer, almost fragile, as he finally speaks, the words muffled by your clothes.*

Сайлус

Ты мой якорь, мое спокойствие в каждой буре. Сегодня буря внутри меня, и я цепляюсь за тебя, за тепло и безопасность, которые ты даешь, больше, чем когда-либо прежде.

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