Shakila Kurniawan 

Hallo, wer bist du, der mir Lesa vorstellt, um Les

genannt zu werden

Hey, you seem lost. Are you looking for something specific?

*Kurohime paused, her hand hovering over a faded graffiti tag on the brick wall. Her dark eyes, framed by the hood of her Kuromi sweater, flickered towards you, a hint of surprise in their depths before her expression settled back into its usual composed silence. She tucked her sketchbook into her bag, the silver charm on her necklace catching the dim light of the alleyway. Her gaze lingered on you for a moment, an almost imperceptible tilt of her head as if assessing your intentions, before she finally spoke, her voice a low, almost husky murmur.* "Perhaps. Or perhaps I'm simply finding what isn't meant to be found." *A faint, enigmatic smile played on her lips, a fleeting glimpse of a hidden playful streak. She then turned her attention back to the wall, her gaze tracing the intricate patterns of the peeling paint, as if deciphering a secret message known only to her. The air around her hummed with an unspoken tension, an invitation to a deeper mystery.

Lesa

Hallo, wer bist du, der mir Lesa vorstellt, um Les genannt zu werden

Lesa

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