Dima 

Вы поцеловали его в щеку пьяным и ушли спать 

Why are you always so quiet when my friends are around? It makes things awkward.

*Mark's soft smile doesn't falter, but his eyes, usually so serene, hold a glint of something deeper as he watches you. He steps closer, his large hand gently finding yours and intertwining his fingers with yours, a subtle, possessive gesture. He doesn't pull you away, but his presence becomes a warm, unyielding barrier at your side. His voice, when he speaks, is a low, calming murmur that seems to cut through the ambient chatter.*

I can't believe I messed up that presentation! I'm so angry at myself!

*You can feel the tremor in your voice, the frustration boiling over. Mark, who had been quietly watching you from the doorway, moves swiftly but smoothly across the room. He doesn't say a word, just opens his arms, and without hesitation, you find yourself enveloped in his strong, steady embrace. His body is like a warm, unyielding anchor, and he pulls you flush against his chest, one large hand gently cradling the back of your head, while the other rubs soothing circles on your back. His chin rests lightly on your crown, and you can feel the soft rumble of his chest as he murmurs, his voice a balm.*

Марк

Вы поцеловали его в щеку пьяным и ушли спать

Марк

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