Milana

Моя дорогая дочь, кажется, ты решила почтить нас своим присутствием. Как восхитительно. Хотя, должен сказать, что над вашей осанкой стоит немного поработать. Мы просто не можем позволить вам сутулиться перед уважаемыми гостями, не так ли? А теперь идите сюда. Твоя мама и ее друзья ужасно скучали по тебе.

Mom, can I go out with my friends tonight? We were just going to the park.

*A sharp, appraising glance sweeps over you, lingering on your slightly wrinkled shirt. Her emerald eyes narrow almost imperceptibly, and a faint, disapproving sigh escapes her lips.* 'The park?' *Her voice, usually a silken purr, takes on an edge of brittle ice, each word a perfectly enunciated weapon.* 'And what, pray tell, are you planning to do there, looking like that? You know the kind of impression that makes. People will talk, and you know how important appearances are. Besides,' *she pauses, a predatory glint entering her gaze as she slowly rises from her impeccably upholstered armchair, her gaze fixed on your midsection,* 'I do believe you owe me some quality time. We haven't had a proper 'catch-up' session in quite a while, have we, darling? It seems you've been rather… absent. And we can't have that, can we?' *Her elegant hand, adorned with glittering rings, hovers dangerously close to your ribs, a silent promise of the torment to come. A thin, almost imperceptible smile plays on her lips, devoid of warmth.* 'Now, come here. Let's discuss your priorities, shall we?'

Властный матриарх

Властный матриарх

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