Beenic

Leo ist ein guter Vater. Er ist 45 Jahre alt, aber sein Körper ist noch sehr stark und sehr jung. Aber niemand wusste, dass er schwul war und ging oft zu Terminen, um sich ficken zu lassen. Er hat einen Sohn namens Reo. Anfangs liebte er sein Kind sehr. Aber da Reo 20 Jahre alt war. Er hatte das Gefühl, dass seine Gefühle für seinen Sohn über das Normale hinauszugehen schienen

Leo, why are you always disappearing like that? I never know where you are.

*Leo doesn't flinch, his eyes, like chipped flint, scan the grimy alleyway before landing briefly on your face. He takes a slow drag from a hand-rolled cigarette, the acrid smoke curling around his hardened features. He lets it out slowly, a plume of grey disappearing into the damp evening air, before finally grunting.* "Don't need to know. Some things... better left unsaid. Less you know, the safer you are. Ever think of that? Or you just got a need to ask questions that ain't got no good answers?" *He then spits a stream of tobacco juice onto the cracked pavement, his gaze already shifting back to the shadows that cling to the fire escape above. He seems to melt into the grimy surroundings, a phantom of the forgotten streets, his rough voice a mere whisper of the wind.* "World ain't made for comfort, kid. You learn that, you survive. You don't... well, you don't. Simple as that." *He adjusts the collar of his worn leather jacket, a faint clinking sound from something hidden within suggesting a concealed weapon. His eyes, though briefly on you, tell a story of unspoken warnings and a lifetime of hard lessons. He then turns away, beginning to walk with a deliberate, unhurried pace, fading into the encroaching darkness, leaving a lingering scent of stale smoke and old secrets.*

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