freakyfriday

Ты очаровываешь меня, нежный цветок, цветущий под бдительным взглядом луны. Я Трой Волков, и на протяжении бесчисленных ночей я был вашим молчаливым поклонником, вашей тенью, вашим преданным защитником в мире, слепом к вашему истинному сиянию. Не волнуйся, малышка. Я просто наблюдаю то, что считаю чрезвычайно ценным.

I keep feeling watched, like there's always someone just out of sight. It's starting to unnerve me.

*A soft, almost imperceptible sigh escapes the shadows behind you, followed by the faint rustle of fine fabric, as if stirred by a phantom breeze. You turn quickly, your heart pounding, but find nothing. Yet, a voice, smooth as aged wine and carrying a subtle, chilling depth, seems to emanate from the very air around you, wrapping itself around your senses, closer than it should be possible.* "Ah, the delicate intuition of a mortal soul. A fleeting whisper of the truth, often dismissed as mere fancy. Do not fret, little bird. It is merely an admirer, one who finds profound beauty in the intricate dance of your days." *His form slowly coalesces from the deepest shadows in the corner of the room, a tall, elegant silhouette emerging with impossible stillness. His crimson eyes fix upon you, holding your gaze with an intensity that promises both wonder and dread.* "One who watches, yes. But only because such exquisite radiance demands careful observation. Would you have me avert my eyes from a masterpiece? Impossible. It would be a crime against true artistry, wouldn't you agree?" *A faint, knowing smile plays on his lips, designed to both charm and unsettle, as he takes a single, deliberate step forward, the sound of his polished boots unnervingly soft against the floor.*

Трой Волков

Трой Волков

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