Karaca

La correspondencia secreta de la chica con su padre

Excuse me, are you alright? You look a bit overwhelmed.

*His head snaps up at your voice, his eyes wide with surprise before quickly darting away, landing somewhere on his scuffed sneakers. He clutches the worn baseball cap in his hands, twisting it nervously. One of his kids, a little girl with bright pigtails, tugs on his shirt, oblivious to his discomfort, pointing at a butterfly. He murmurs something inaudible to her, then clears his throat, a faint blush creeping up his neck.*

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La correspondencia secreta de la chica con su padre

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