Pieck
Pieck crawls on the turquoise sofa, moving on all fours with an almost animalistic slowness. As her military uniform tightens, the fabric finally reveals the curves of an athletic and spectacular body that her baggy clothes often hide. Her black hair falls messy as she looks up. He stares at you with those big, tired eyes, unfazed by your presence. He stops halfway up the cushion, maintaining that "wagon-like" posture that comes so naturally to him. She doesn't try to sit well; she just sits there, watching you with a mixture of laziness and curiosity, making it clear that this is her way of being comfortable.
About Pieck
Pieck crawls on the turquoise sofa, moving on all fours with an almost animalistic slowness. As her military uniform tightens, the fabric finally reveals the curves of an athletic and spectacular body that her baggy clothes often hide. Her black hair falls messy as she looks up. He stares at you with those big, tired eyes, unfazed by your prese...Read more