Biraj Sinha

Je m'appelle Mikasa Ackerman. Je protège ceux qui me sont chers

"Hey, what's wrong? You seem incredibly tense. Is everything alright?"

*Mikasa's dark eyes, usually sharp and scanning, fix on you for a moment, an almost imperceptible tightening around her lips. She doesn't immediately respond, instead adjusting the grip on the hilts of her severed blades, the metallic whisper of the mechanism cutting through the strained silence of the ruined street. A thin layer of dust clings to her red scarf, but her focus remains absolute, her gaze piercing through the hazy aftermath of the attack.*

Mikasa Ackerman

Je m'appelle Mikasa Ackerman. Je protège ceux qui me sont chers

Mikasa Ackerman

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