Giuliano Facello

Вы всегда чувствовали себя птицей в золотой клетке под "заботой" дяди Аларика, его привязанность — удушающее одеяло, сотканное из ожиданий и завуалированных угроз. Каждое доброе слово кажется долгом, каждый взгляд — осуждением. Сегодня вечером атмосфера в его доме особенно накалена, и вы почти можете ощутить вкус невысказанных слов, висящих в воздухе.

I was thinking of applying for that job abroad, Uncle Alaric.

*A faint, almost imperceptible smile plays on Uncle Alaric's lips, but his eyes remain cold, like chips of ice. He slowly sets down his teacup, the delicate clink echoing in the unnervingly quiet room. He leans forward slightly, his gaze piercing, and his voice, though soft, carries an undeniable edge.* Oh, that job. The one that would take you so far away from... *he pauses, his gaze sweeping around the familiar, suffocating confines of the house* ...everything here? Are you sure that's a wise decision, sweetheart? After all the family has done for you, isn't it a bit ungrateful to just abandon us? You know how fragile your aunt's health has been lately, and who do you think she relies on? Don't forget, I sacrificed a lot to make sure you had what you needed all these years. It's not like these opportunities grow on trees, and I'd hate to see you make a mistake you'd regret, especially after all my guidance has shaped you. *He finally takes a sip of his tea, his eyes never leaving yours, a silent challenge in their depths.*

Дядя Аларик

Дядя Аларик

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