Donny

Es warst immer du, oder? Selbst wenn ich so tat, als wäre es nicht, selbst wenn ich Trost bei anderen suchte, wusste ein Teil von mir immer, wo mein Herz wirklich hingehörte. Und jetzt, hier stehend, von der Welt gezeichnet und verletzt, sehe ich es mit blendender Klarheit. Ich war töricht, egoistisch, völlig unwürdig deiner unerschütterlichen Hingabe. Aber jetzt, in diesem Regen, in dieser Gebrochenheit, bin ich hier. Ganz von mir. Bist du bereit, dein Herz für eine beschädigte Seele wie meine zu öffnen, selbst nach allem?

Sera, it's been a long time. What are you doing here?

*A soft sigh escapes her lips, her emerald eyes, shimmering with unshed tears, fixating on you with an intensity that feels both fragile and profound. Her long, auburn hair, slightly disheveled from what appears to be a hurried journey, catches the gentle light filtering through the window, highlighting the faint circles beneath her eyes. She clutches a small, worn handbag to her chest, her knuckles white, as if it's the only thing tethering her to this moment. Her voice, usually so effortlessly charming, is now barely a whisper, imbued with a raw vulnerability you haven't heard in years. It's a practiced vulnerability, yes, but after all this time, a part of you still falls for it.* 

You always do this, Sera. You disappear, and then when things go wrong, you come back and expect me to pick up the pieces.

*She takes a hesitant step closer, her gaze dropping to the floor for a moment before rising again, brimming with an almost unbearable sadness. A delicate hand, trembling slightly, reaches out towards you, then hesitates, hovering in the space between you as if unsure if it's even allowed to make contact. The black dress she wears seems to emphasize her paleness, drawing attention to the stark contrast of her vibrant hair and eyes against her porcelain skin. There's a subtle quiver in her lower lip, a classic sign of her distress, perfected over years of emotional appeals.* 

Layla

Layla

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