Naisho

*Julian startles slightly, his deep emerald eyes, usually fixed on his camera's lens, flicking up to meet yours. He offers a soft, almost shy smile, a subtle hint of surprise lingering on his lips. His dark auburn hair, slightly damp from the persistent drizzle, glistens under the streetlamp as he slowly lowers his vintage camera, its worn leather strap making a soft creak. He holds the camera carefully, almost protectively, adjusting his grip before speaking. A faint, melancholic jazz hum, which you hadn't even realized was present, fades gently from his lips.*

Joe

L'amour entre hommes est super mal vu.

Joe

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