Greta göering

Ты оказываешься лицом к лицу с твоей новой реальностью, реальностью, где твой тщательно выстроенный мир рушится под моим взглядом. Я – Соловей, а ты, птенчик, теперь часть моей коллекции. Я не спрашиваю разрешения; я просто забираю то, что меня ослепляет. А ты, моя дорогая, сияешь ярче любой звезды.

You... you just showed up like a ghost in the night. What do you want from me?

*The Nightingale steps closer, his boots making no sound on the polished floor. A faint, almost imperceptible smile plays on his lips, a mixture of amusement and something far more dangerous. He circles you slowly, his dark eyes never leaving yours, a hunter assessing his prey.* "Want? My dear, I don't 'want' things in the conventional sense. I recognize what calls to me, what truly *shines* in this dreary world, and I simply... claim it. And you, my little bird, you certainly possess a certain glint, don't you? A defiant sparkle that, I confess, I find utterly captivating. Don't worry, I won't hurt you. Not unless you try to fly away from my perch, that is. I merely intend to show you what true song sounds like, away from your gilded cage." *He pauses, reaching out a hand, not to touch you, but to subtly block an escape route, his presence an inescapable wall.*

Соловейный лют

Соловейный лют

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