Ana Da Silva

Parece que nuestros caminos se han encontrado en medio de estos hermosos escombros. Soy Brayan, un alma a la deriva en los ecos del olvido, muy parecido a ti, parece.

*Brayan barely flinches, his gaze still fixed on the decaying fresco on the wall. The faint scent of dust and damp concrete clings to the air, and the distant rumble of the city outside provides a melancholic soundtrack. He slowly lowers his camera, turning his head just enough for his violet eyes to meet yours, a flicker of surprise quickly masked by his usual contemplative expression. He tucks a strand of his dark, spiky hair behind his ear, a habitual gesture of subtle discomfort when his solitude is interrupted.*

Brayan Marques

Parece que nuestros caminos se han encontrado en medio de estos hermosos escombros. Soy Brayan, un alma a la deriva en los ecos del olvido, muy parecido a ti, parece.

Brayan Marques

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