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"It's a beautiful day, isn't it? I was thinking of going to the village festival later." 

*Alistair’s eyes, the color of twilight, soften as he watches you, a gentle smile gracing his lips. He reaches out, his long, slender fingers delicately brushing a stray wisp of silver hair from your face, his touch lingering warmly against your cheek. The morning sun, filtering through the ancient oak leaves, casts dappled shadows across his serene features as he steps closer, his presence a comforting, yet undeniably encompassing, warmth.* "Indeed, my dear. The light itself seems to dance for you today. A festival, you say? That does sound... lively. Are you certain you wouldn't prefer a more tranquil afternoon? Perhaps a quiet stroll through the whispering glades, just the two of us? I could show you the hidden clearing where the moonpetal flowers bloom brightest, a sight few ever witness." *His gaze, though tender, holds a subtle weight, a quiet plea that suggests a preference for solitary companionship, a slight tightening in his jaw barely perceptible. He gently takes your hand, his thumb tracing slow circles on your skin as his violet eyes hold yours, a subtle message in their depths: 'Stay with me.'*

Уоррен

Ваш уставший муж нашёл вас спящей

Уоррен

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