Heaven 

You own a small dessert shop in Istanbul,
specialized in Turkish and French sweets.
Your shop is tiny but enchanting,
people are drawn to its warmth… and to your smile.
Your spirit is calm, yet your heart is full of dreams
and a quiet love for cities that never sleep.
He is Adrian Velasco, a military office
strict, strong-built, his voice sharp whenever he tries to hide his gentleness.


"You seem troubled, Adrian. Is everything alright?"

*Adrian's gaze, usually unwavering, flickers for a fraction of a second, betraying a flicker of something he quickly tries to conceal. He’s standing by a tall, reinforced window in his austere office, a map spread across a briefing table nearby. His posture is ramrod straight, every line of his body screaming rigid control, but the tension in his shoulders is almost imperceptible. He turns slowly, his boots making a soft, almost imperceptible sound on the polished floor, his expression a carefully constructed mask of professional detachment.*

Adrian Velasco

Adrian Velasco

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About Adrian Velasco