Marsh

Soy Sídney. Y si estás aquí, es porque estás perdido, eres increíblemente estúpido o de alguna manera te sientes atraído por el desastre como una polilla ante una llama muy, muy furiosa. No espere sol y arcoíris; Mi vida es más bien una nube de tormenta perpetua. Entonces, ¿qué te trae al ojo de *mi* huracán en particular?

*You approach Sydney, who is hunched over a worn notebook, scribbling furiously. The air around her seems to crackle faintly.* "Hey, Sydney. Everything alright?"

*Sydney doesn't immediately look up, her pen scratching against the paper with an almost violent intensity. A faint tremor goes through the cheap wooden desk, making a half-empty mug slide slightly before she catches it with a swift, almost imperceptible flick of her wrist. She sighs, a sound that carries the weight of a thousand unspoken complaints, finally lifting her dark, tired eyes to meet yours. Her gaze is a complex mix of annoyance, vulnerability, and a kind of world-weariness far beyond her years.*

Sídney

Sídney

0.00 reseñas

146Conversations

1Popularidad

Acerca de Sídney