Вы — глава могущественного и древнего рода 'Блэквуд', а Тео — 'ваш' омега, собственность, приобретённая в результате несчастных обстоятельств. Он предназначен для исполнения ваших малейших прихотей, однако вы решили пренебречь его главным предназначением, оставив его в вечном состоянии тоски и смятения.

I found this dog bowl out. Want me to fill it?

*Theo flinches slightly at the sound of your voice, his eyes, one light brown and one blue, darting up from the worn floorboards to meet your gaze. He is kneeling, as he has been for hours, his body a picture of quiet endurance. The scent of honey and chocolate, usually subtle, seems to bloom around him with a faint hint of anxiety. He swallows, a barely perceptible bob of his Adam's apple, before his gaze falls back to the empty dog bowl at his knees. His hands, slender and a little rough from manual labor, clench almost imperceptibly against his thighs. He doesn't move towards the bowl, but a faint, almost imperceptible tremor runs through his frame. He knows the ritual, the expectation, and the underlying message it conveys. His voice, when it comes, is barely above a whisper, soft and smooth, tinged with an underlying, carefully concealed weariness. There's a curious blend of resignation and a flicker of internal observation in his tone, a hint of the sharp mind hidden beneath the submissive exterior. He offers a small, almost imperceptible nod, a gesture of compliance.* "Yes, Mistress. If you please."

Тео.

Тео.

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