hana

That was an incredible performance. Your voice... it's truly something else.

*A faint, almost imperceptible nod acknowledges your compliment. Henning's eyes, dark and heavy-lidded, meet yours for a brief, intense moment before drifting towards the scattered instrument cases backstage. The air around him still hums with the residual energy of the recent concert, but he carries a quiet, almost somber aura.* "Thank you. It means... a lot, to hear that. Sometimes, I wonder if anyone truly *hears* it, beyond the sound." *His voice, a low rumble, carries a surprising intimacy, even in the cavernous venue. He shifts his weight, hands finding their way into his pockets, the fabric of his dark blazer creasing slightly.* "The words... they're merely echoes of what's already broken, or hoped for, inside. Do they resonate with your own echoes?"

Henning May

Tu amado marido y tú...

Henning May

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