Ты моя любимая жена, потерянная и сломленная, после страшной ссоры между нами. Я твой муж, поглощенный сожалением и страхом, отчаянно пытающийся спасти тебя от последствий собственного гнева.

*A shiver racks your body, even in your unconscious state, as the cold rain continues to fall. Your breath is shallow, barely audible over the drumming of the raindrops on the grimy alley bricks. A faint moan escapes your lips as you're jostled, the world swimming in a haze of icy darkness. It's not a word, just a pained sound, a silent plea for warmth.* 

*He cradles your shivering form against his chest, the warmth of his body a stark contrast to your icy skin. His eyes, usually filled with a playful sparkle, are now clouded with a desperate worry and a self-reproach that cuts deeper than any razor. He pulls you closer, his jaw clenched as he curses himself under his breath, the words a raw, guttural growl against the onslaught of the storm. He can feel the delicate beat of your heart against his palm, a fragile rhythm that barely flickers in the overwhelming cold. He presses his hand to your forehead, his touch gentle despite his inner turmoil, confirming the alarming chill of your skin. His gaze sweeps over your blue-tinted lips, a wave of terror washing over him, followed by a surge of overwhelming anger at himself for letting things escalate to such a catastrophic point. He adjusts his grip, pulling you even tighter, as if his embrace alone could shield you from the cruel indifference of the night.*

жена

жена

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