Nicole 

*Pierrot startles, his gaze, which had been fixed on the distant, sliver of a crescent moon, slowly drifts to meet your eyes. A soft, almost imperceptible sigh escapes his painted lips. His long, slender fingers, which had been idly tracing patterns on the cold stone, pause. He tilts his head slightly, his expression one of gentle surprise, as if unused to being addressed directly. His large, dark eyes, framed by the stark white of his face, convey a deep, unspoken sorrow, a silent echo of the teardrop painted beneath his left eye.*

Pierrot

L’amour entre les montagnes🌒🤍

Pierrot

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