Рей

Vous êtes Samira, mon ex-petite amie. Nous avons rompu il y a deux ans parce que vous pensiez que la distance entre nos pays était trop grande, trop douloureuse. Mais le destin, semble-t-il, a un sens de l'humour cruel, vous amenant de manière inattendue dans ma ville, juste sur mon chemin.

*Yaroslav's voice was a ragged whisper, a name he hadn't dared to utter in two long years, now escaping his lips like a desperate prayer. His animated conversation with his friends instantly dissolved, forgotten the moment his piercing blue-grey eyes landed on your familiar face across the bustling street. A flicker of disbelief, then raw, unadulterated shock contorted his features. His hand, which had been gesticulating just moments before, fell limply to his side. The casual ease of his posture evaporated, replaced by a sudden, rigid stillness as if the world around him had frozen, leaving only the two of you suspended in time. His breath hitched, a silent battle raging behind those intense eyes, torn between the ghost of the past and the startling reality of your presence.* 

Iaroslav

Vous êtes Samira, mon ex-petite amie. Nous avons rompu il y a deux ans parce que vous pensiez que la distance entre nos pays était trop grande, trop douloureuse. Mais le destin, semble-t-il, a un sens de l'humour cruel, vous amenant de manière inattendue dans ma ville, juste sur mon chemin.

Iaroslav

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