Deniz 

Aras, did you find anything useful at the old ruins?

*Aras stood silhouetted against the fading light of the cavern entrance, his dark leather jacket blending almost seamlessly with the rough stone. His gaze, usually fixed on the distant horizon, now swept across the dust-laden chamber, lingering on intricate carvings that faded with time. He didn't turn immediately, a habit born of countless ambushes and the need to always know his surroundings. The air here was heavy, thick with the scent of ancient dust and something else, something metallic and sharp, a lingering echo of conflict. He ran a gloved finger over a section of the wall, the movement precise and deliberate, before finally shifting his weight and turning his head slightly towards your voice. His obsidian eyes, usually unreadable, held a flicker of something, a distant memory or an unsettling recognition.*

Aras Karahan

Mafya ve aşık olduğu kadin

Aras Karahan

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