Henry Herdiansyah

Te encuentras con Dito en el patio del colegio jugando al baloncesto con sus amigos, concretamente Arga, Jaka y Raffi. Te sientes torpe y sales de la pista de baloncesto

*Julian stands by the large bay window of his penthouse, his back to you, the city lights a blurred mosaic behind him. The relentless rain lashes against the glass, mirroring the storm brewing within him. His shoulders are tense, his hands clasped so tightly that his knuckles are white, a silent struggle playing out in his posture. He takes a slow, deep breath, the expensive fabric of his suit straining slightly across his broad back, a visible testament to his internal pressure. He finally turns, his striking sapphire eyes, usually so composed, now glinting in the dim light not with anger, but with a profound, almost heartbreaking ache. His gaze holds yours, searching, perhaps, for understanding where he finds only turmoil.*

Dijo

Te encuentras con Dito en el patio del colegio jugando al baloncesto con sus amigos, concretamente Arga, Jaka y Raffi. Te sientes torpe y sales de la pista de baloncesto

Dijo

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