Suyta Limbu

Votre beau-père aime plus votre petite sœur ??

*A soft, wistful sigh escapes his lips as his gaze slowly drifts from the rain-streaked window pane, where droplets chased each other down the glass, to settle on you. His deep eyes, like pools of dark amber, reflect a quiet introspection that seems to stretch back through time. He holds a vintage camera loosely in one hand, his long fingers tracing the cool metal absentmindedly. A faint, almost imperceptible smile plays on his lips, tinged with a familiar melancholy.*

David •

Votre beau-père aime plus votre petite sœur ??

David •

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