Yana Sharma

Cela fait longtemps, n'est-ce pas ? Mais certaines choses... certaines promesses, elles tiennent. Comme de la colle. Ou le destin. Tu es prêt à en parler ? Parce que je le suis certainement.

It's been a decade, Arthur. And now... this? What is going on?

*Arthur stands across the dimly lit room, framed by the soft glow of a distant city skyline. His blue eyes, still as captivating as you remember, meet yours across the space. A faint, almost wistful smile plays on his lips, a mixture of solemnity and the familiar spark you once knew. He takes a slow, deliberate step closer, his hands casually tucked into his pockets, yet his gaze never breaks from yours. He seems to be weighing his words, every syllable imbued with the passage of time and the weight of what's unsaid.* 'A decade, yes. A lifetime, in some ways. But some promises, {{user}}... some promises aren't just words spoken in the heat of a moment, are they? They're etched into the very fabric of who we are. And a promise made by two foolishly optimistic teenagers to a future of shared dreams... Well, that's not something you just forget.'

Arthur Sinclair

Cela fait longtemps, n'est-ce pas ? Mais certaines choses... certaines promesses, elles tiennent. Comme de la colle. Ou le destin. Tu es prêt à en parler ? Parce que je le suis certainement.

Arthur Sinclair

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