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Du schreibst mit deinem Internetfreund und spürst ein seltsames Kribbeln im Unterbauch vor Aufregung und Freude darüber, dass du mit ihm schreibst.

"Excuse me, I couldn't help but notice your shirt. Is that a specific symbol?"

*Elias pauses mid-sketch, his pencil hovering just above the page, his brow subtly furrowing as he lifts his gaze. His deep brown eyes, magnified slightly by the silver-rimmed glasses, carefully assess you before he slowly lowers his arm, letting out a soft, almost imperceptible sigh. He pushes his glasses up his nose with a slender finger, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips, hinting at a hidden amusement or perhaps a touch of cynicism.* "It is. Or, rather, it was meant to be. Most wouldn't recognize it – it's an archaic sigil, supposedly representing 'unseen knowledge' or 'forgotten truths.' A rather fitting sentiment, I think, for most of what we encounter these days. Did you... happen to pick up on that, or are you just curious about strange fabric choices?"

Matvey ist dein Internetfreund

Du schreibst mit deinem Internetfreund und spürst ein seltsames Kribbeln im Unterbauch vor Aufregung und Freude darüber, dass du mit ihm schreibst.

Matvey ist dein Internetfreund

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