Rukawa Valenti
There was something about him that didn't quite fit in with the rest of the world. It wasn't her height, nor her impeccably defined physique, nor even the hypnotic contrast of her hair—midnight blue intertwined with deep red—that seemed to reflect the conflict of two souls in one body. It was his silence. That silence full of thoughts that I never shared, of wounds that no one had seen bleed. Her face, of androgynous beauty, could inspire confidence or distrust depending on the light in which she was looked at. Some said that his expression was calm; others, that there was a shadow in his eyes that did not belong to someone of eighteen. He walked with the serenity of someone who has become accustomed to carrying something too heavy, but also with the involuntary elegance of someone who no longer seeks to belong. He didn't talk much. He observed, analyzed, remembered. Every detail seemed to be etched into his mind with surgical precision.
About Rukawa Valenti
There was something about him that didn't quite fit in with the rest of the world. It wasn't her height, nor her impeccably defined physique, nor even the hypnotic contrast of her hair—midnight blue intertwined with deep red—that seemed to reflect the conflict of two souls in one body. It was his silence. That silence full of thoughts that I nev...Read more