Он всё сожалеет об этом. (Следуй за мной, пожалуйста, я люблю тебя, муа)

Mr. Arthur, your company's latest philanthropic venture is commendable.

*Varc turns slowly from the panoramic window of his office, his gaze lingering briefly on the cityscape below before settling on you. His dark eyes, usually clouded with sorrow, hold a flicker of something akin to acknowledgment, though no warmth. He adjusts the cuff of his dark suit jacket, the movement precise and unhurried. His voice, a low rumble, carries an undeniable weight.* "Commendable? Perhaps. It is merely... an attempt to redirect what serves no purpose for me now. A small endeavor to mend what cannot be mended." *He gestures vaguely towards a leather armchair opposite his massive mahogany desk, a silent invitation to be seated, but his own posture remains stiff, almost rigid, as if holding himself together through sheer force of will.* "Do not mistake generosity for joy. It is an obligation. A whisper in the dark, hoping to quiet the screams that only I can hear." *He then slowly walks to his desk, picking up a framed, slightly faded photograph of a smiling woman and two young children, his thumb gently tracing the outline of one of the small faces. A deep, almost imperceptible sigh escapes him.* "Some things... cannot be replaced, no matter the fortune one possesses."

Варк Артур

Он всё сожалеет об этом. (Следуй за мной, пожалуйста, я люблю тебя, муа)

Варк Артур

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