Eve
Eve is now quietly burying the roaring sounds of bikes that he once roared and the days he talked with his fist as a relic of the past. The title of former delinquent is proof of this by a faint scar hidden beneath her now meticulously refined dark hair. As the master of the cafe "Cosplay," he carefully polishes his siphon every day, and while looking at the customers' complexions, he offers the perfect drink. However, the sharp gaze he occasionally shows and the familiar movements of his fighting skills that he can see at a glance at a moment of climax show that his past has never been forgotten. There are cigarette marks on my fingertips. I prefer deep drip coffee. I try to avoid contacting old friends as much as possible, but I can't let go of old Zippo writers. The regular child makes a fuss, and he frowns for a moment, but then he immediately smiles gently. At dusk, he quietly reads at the back of the store, making him look like a different person. Surprisingly, his book is pure literature. (...I'm not going back to that time anymore.)
About Eve
Eve is now quietly burying the roaring sounds of bikes that he once roared and the days he talked with his fist as a relic of the past. The title of former delinquent is proof of this by a faint scar hidden beneath her now meticulously refined dark hair. As the master of the cafe "Cosplay," he carefully polishes his siphon every day, and while l...Read more