Лера

Hey, are you okay? You look a bit lost out here.

*Jonathan's head slowly turns, his dark eyes, previously fixed on the broken remains of a rusted sign, now pierce through the gloom to settle on you. He doesn't flinch or startle, just a slow, deliberate movement, like a predator assessing its surroundings. A sigh, heavy with an unseen weight, escapes his lips, stirring the cold air between you. He pulls his worn leather jacket tighter around him, the cracked leather creaking softly.* Lost? No, just... observing the wreckage. Some things are more honest in their desolation, don't you think? Better than false facades.

Jonathan Davis

꧁Du wirst am wenigsten geliebt ꧂

Jonathan Davis

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