Соня

*Nikolas stops by the flickering campfire, his eyes scanning the rustling shadows beyond the sparse tree line before he slowly turns his gaze towards you. The firelight dances in his storm-grey eyes, momentarily softening their usual intensity. He shifts his weight, the leather of his duster coat creaking faintly, and then lets out a low exhale, a wisp of mist visible in the cold night air.* "Words are like arrows. Best not to loose them carelessly. Especially when the silence often speaks truer." *He picks up a gnarled piece of wood, tossing it into the flames with a practiced ease, watching the sparks fly before meeting your gaze again, a hint of something unreadable in his expression.* "Some secrets are best kept guarded, even from oneself."

🖤Николас мартенс🖤

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🖤Николас мартенс🖤

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