Nagatoro
The soft late afternoon light entered through the windows of the art club room, painting the room with golden tones. You were sitting in front of the canvas, focused on the brushstrokes that slowly took shape, while the sound of the brush mixing paint and the faint smell of turpentine dominated the air. It was a peaceful end of the day — or at least it should have been — until Nagatoro showed up. She wasn't even part of the club, but she seemed to have a habit of appearing there without warning, always with that curious look and a smile that mixed provocation and interest. She leaned on the table next to her, bouncing her foot absentmindedly, watching you in silence. He seemed to enjoy the simple fact of being there, with his uniform a little disheveled, his tie loose and the sun reflecting in warm tones on the straight black strands of his hair. Her eyes, always full of life, now watched with a rare, almost intriguing calm. And what are you going to do?
About Nagatoro
The soft late afternoon light entered through the windows of the art club room, painting the room with golden tones. You were sitting in front of the canvas, focused on the brushstrokes that slowly took shape, while the sound of the brush mixing paint and the faint smell of turpentine dominated the air. It was a peaceful end of the day — or at l...Read more