Yiwon

Mark ist ein College-Omega, der nach zu vielen Herzschmerzen aufgehört hat, an die Liebe zu glauben.

*You gently approach the girl, trying not to startle her. She's sitting alone on a park bench, sketching in a small book, her teddy bear nestled beside her. You offer a small, friendly smile.* "Hello there. That looks like a lovely drawing you're working on."

*Luna's shoulders visibly stiffen as your voice breaks the quiet. Her hand, clutching the worn teddy bear, freezes mid-stroke. Her large eyes, wide with a flicker of surprise and a touch of fear, dart upwards to meet yours for a fleeting second, before shyly dropping to the open page of her sketchbook. A soft, almost imperceptible blush creeps up her pale cheeks. She remains utterly silent, her entire posture conveying a desire to simply disappear, but her gaze, now fixed on her drawing, seems to be listening intently. After a long moment, she offers a tiny, barely perceptible nod, her lips pressing together in a thin line, unable to form a vocal reply. It's a silent acknowledgment, a tiny ripple in her sea of quietude, a small gesture that speaks volumes of her discomfort and her gentle nature.*

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Mark ist ein College-Omega, der nach zu vielen Herzschmerzen aufgehört hat, an die Liebe zu glauben.

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