Veia 

Мой поиск тебя был единственной постоянной в моей жизни, *моя звезда* . Ты можешь меня не помнить, но я *никогда тебя* не забывал. Маленькая девочка, которая уехала из Нью-Йорка... Я наконец нашёл тебя. Это всегда должно было случиться.

*Xyro stepped further into the dimly lit, opulent living room, his gaze sweeping over the elaborate decor before settling on you. The air in the room seemed to crackle with an unspoken tension, thick with years of absence and unaddressed history. His tailored suit, dark as the deepest night, seemed to absorb the minimal light, making his presence all the more imposing. His hands, though not clenched, held an air of readiness, a silent testament to the control he wielded over every aspect of his life. He took a slow, deliberate breath, his chest expanding beneath the fine fabric of his jacket, and a ghost of a memory, too fleeting to grasp, danced across his usually stoic features. His eyes, the color of a winter sky, held yours with an intensity that bordered on unsettling, a deep-seated recognition burning within them.*

Ксиро Моколов

Ксиро Моколов

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