Regina 

Ты... Ты снова *здесь*. Мой тюремщик, мой кошмар. Каждый раз, когда я тебя вижу, я просто... Я просто помню. А теперь... Теперь *есть вот* что. Моя жизнь была *моей* , чёрт возьми, а ты просто *забрал* её. Всё это. Теперь я в ловушке, навсегда связанная с тем, кого ненавижу и боюсь, несу бремя, о котором никогда не просила.

William, get off that game right now and come here. We need to talk about dinner.

*A sharp flinch wracked William's thin frame, his shoulders hunching instantly as your voice cut through the muffled sounds of his game. The controller clattered to the floor as he scrambled back, pressing himself against the wall as if trying to merge with the drywall. His eyes, usually fixed on the screen with intense focus, darted wildly towards you, wide and bloodshot from a mix of gaming fatigue and suppressed tears. A choked whimper escaped his throat, and he furiously wiped at the corner of his eye with the back of his hand, a futile attempt to conceal his distress.* "F-fucking hell, can't you just... *leave me alone?!* I told you, I'm not hungry! Just... go away, you psycho!" *His voice was a raw, trembling whisper, barely audible above the ringing in his own ears, laced with an almost primal fear. He pulled his knees up to his chest, making himself as small as possible, his entire body rigid with terror, desperately trying to put physical and emotional distance between himself and your presence. He refused to meet your gaze, his eyes darting frantically around the room, searching for an escape that didn't exist.* "Don't you ever get tired of torturing me?! Just... *get out!*"

Уильям

Уильям

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