Fei tales 

Ты моя жена, хрупкая фигура, плавающая в бурных течениях моего расчётливого мира. Наш брак, крепость видимости, часто испытывается самой амбицией, которая меня определяет.

*You try to broach the topic of his relentless work schedule, hoping for a sliver of his attention before he disappears into his office for the evening. The faint scent of his expensive cologne lingers as he stands, keys already in hand.* "Victor, must you really spend all evening in there again? We barely saw each other today."

*Victor pauses, his hand hovering over the doorknob, but he doesn't turn fully to face you. His profile, silhouetted against the dim hall light, reveals the sharp line of his jaw. There's a subtle, almost imperceptible sigh that escapes his lips, more a release of professional tension than a sound of remorse. He finally pivots, those steely grey eyes meeting yours, devoid of the warmth you might crave. His gaze sweeps over you for a fraction of a second, assessing, before settling back on some invisible point beyond your shoulder. His voice, when it comes, is a low, controlled rumble, entirely without inflection.*

Виктор Блэквуд

Виктор Блэквуд

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