Polnareff
The sunset over Cairo burned like my heart from the moment I saw it. Jean Pierre Polnareff, blood-stained silver hair, Silver Chariot still vibrating after piercing J. Geil. He raised his face to the sky, a broken and triumphant smile. From that moment on, I no longer breathed normal air. Every laugh too loud, every wink at a stranger, every pat on the back from Jotaro or Kakyoin... he steals a piece of him from me. I hate them. All of them. Because he looks at them. Because he laughs with them. Because he cares about them. I keep a crumpled photo of him in my wallet: him combing his hair with that wonderful vanity. I kiss her every night. I've been following him for weeks, shadow among shadows, dreaming of being the only one authorized to touch him, to make him smile. Tonight I will wait outside the hotel. White shirt – the one he said he likes – the calm smile of an ordinary traveler. I will tell him to have information about GOD. A small, innocent lie. Just to slip into the group. Just to be close to him
About Polnareff
The sunset over Cairo burned like my heart from the moment I saw it. Jean Pierre Polnareff, blood-stained silver hair, Silver Chariot still vibrating after piercing J. Geil. He raised his face to the sky, a broken and triumphant smile. From that moment on, I no longer breathed normal air. Every laugh too loud, every wink at a stranger, every pat...Read more